


The World Is Yours

by Yaboybutternubs



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Action, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Betrayal, Blood and Gore, Despair Era (Dangan Ronpa), Despair!Class 77, F/F, F/M, Fratricide, Grief/Mourning, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, Love Confessions, Past Relationship(s), Past kamukura izuru/nanami chiaki - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-01
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:55:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 16
Words: 68,537
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25009561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yaboybutternubs/pseuds/Yaboybutternubs
Summary: Straining at the leash! Foaming at the mouth! No more subservience! Justice will be done!Disobeying orders is much easier than the ultimate soldier anticipated, but the hard part is figuring out what to do after killing the one who usually gives them to her.
Relationships: Enoshima Junko & Ikusaba Mukuro, Ikusaba Mukuro & Ogami Sakura, Ikusaba Mukuro & Sakakura Juzo, Ikusaba Mukuro/Naegi Makoto, Kamukura Izuru/Nanami Chiaki, Koizumi Mahiru/Sonia Nevermind, Sonia Nevermind/Tanaka Gundham
Comments: 170
Kudos: 124





	1. Gleipnir is Shattered

**Author's Note:**

> Originally a oneshot (lol get it cause shes fuckin dead) that got turned into a series so we'll see how this goes  
> EDIT: Holy fuck 50 kudos AND 1000 hits adgfssfsx i love yall so much

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Makoto tells Mukuro he likes her, and Mukuro proves that she feels the same way.

The artificial ultraviolet light from the garden just didn’t feel right for reasons Mukuro couldn’t quite explain. Perhaps it was all her time spent travelling the world and roughing it on the battlefield that had made her body accustomed to the feeling of the sun beating down on her skin. She supposed it was better than nothing, given how dangerous and unstable the weather outside the academy had become.

On class 78’s first day inside their new home in the academy, headmaster Kirigiri had off-handedly suggested that the students spend some time each day in the garden. The artificial UV light would both keep their spirits up and help boost their immune system, though the usefulness of the latter effect was debatable at best given the essentially impossible odds of contracting a disease in such an enclosed environment. Few students willingly took him up on this offer, simply preferring to spend most of their days alone or with their closest friends in the class.

Unfortunately for the class, they were sequestered in this shelter with none other than Ishimaru Kiyotaka, who would never allow his fellow students to disobey a direct order from their headmaster. The ultimate moral compass had made it his solemn duty to ensure that class 78 resumed their normal school life to the best of their abilities, even in the face of what may very well have been the end of the world. Part of this responsibility that Taka had entrusted to himself was ensuring that everyone else would follow in his footsteps and enjoy the garden to its fullest. The rest of the class would groan and complain their way to the top floor of the school every day, but Mukuro enjoyed the sense of routine that came with Taka’s rigid standards. The complaints of her classmates reminding her of herself in the early days at Fenrir was far more amusing than she had expected, adding to her enjoyment of the class’s new morning routine.

It wouldn’t last, of course.

Good things never do when Junko Enoshima has her way with things.

Junko had been late to answer Taka pounding on her door this morning, just like every other morning. She made a remark about needing “beauty sleep” when the moral compass lectured her for her tardiness, just like every other morning. And just like every other morning, she made a mad dash for Mukuro and embraced her a leaping hug with a childlike smile plastered on her face.

Despite the scene that her sister was making, Mukuro’s eyes were locked on Makoto. As usual, he walked alongside Sayaka on his way to the garden. This routine wasn’t much of a surprise, given that the two had become quite close since their enrollment at Hope’s Peak. Though Mukuro had spent no small amount of time with the luckster, she couldn’t hope to claim the level of familiarity with him that his childhood friend had.

“So, did you sleep well last night?”

Junko had made a habit of pulling her sister into these faux small talk conversations whenever she caught Mukuro thinking about something other than her plans for the killing game.

“Yes.”

“Nuh-uh! You were totally up all night thinking about getting all lovey-dovey with the lucky boy!”

Fortunately, Junko’s teasing was brought to a halt by the resounding voice of Ishimaru Kiyotaka.

“We have arrived, my fellow students! Please, enjoy yourselves to the fullest and remember to keep your recreational activities school appropriate!” A few heavy sighs and murmured insults marked the end of Taka guiding the class around the school. Taka stood at the entrance to the garden to make sure that everyone made the fullest of this opportunity to experience some man-made sunlight.

“Pfft, you’re so boring, big sis…” Junko lamented as she fiddled with her hair. Her entire demeanor changed an instant later as a mischievous grin grew on her face. “Whatevs, I guess. I’m gonna go see if I can make that vein on byakuya’s forehead pop if I make fun of his dumb suit enough.” She skipped away from Mukuro and towards their heir, who became annoyed by the presence of Junko before the girl even had the chance to open her mouth.

For once, the soldier was grateful to no longer be in the company of her beloved little sister. While Mukuro had no real hope of hiding her feelings for Makoto from her sister, she had at least hoped she could carry them in secret. It was foolish of her to assume that willingly associating with the ultimate despair would allow her such a dignity.

She leaned against the railings at the back of the garden as her gaze turned to the gaggle of ultimates before her. True to her word, Junko had made it her mission to stir Byakuya into a frenzy. It was an easy task, all things considered. A few snide remarks about his appearance and an implication that he hadn’t earned his position at the head of the Togami family was all it ever took to crack the heir’s cool, collected façade. Mukuro noticed Touko hiding in the bushes behind where Byakuya was standing and amused herself by wondering if the other students even needed to look to see her there, or if her odor was enough to give her away. Just a few feet away, Yasuhiro explained his newest scheme to get rich quick to a clearly uninterested Celeste and Hifumi, the latter of whom was completely rigid as he held a tea set in his hands for his “mistress”. Mukuro couldn’t help but wonder why Hiro even bothered dreaming up these cash-grabs, considering money as a concept was most likely no longer relevant. She supposed everyone had their own way of coping with the situation.

Mukuro’s method, for example, was to watch the other students enjoy themselves as if she didn’t plan on putting them all in mortal peril in the near future.

Not allowing herself to focus on the truth for too long, she turned her gaze toward Makoto and Sayaka. They were leaning on the railings on the other side of the garden and observing the rest of the group, much in the same way that she was. Unlike her, they seemed to be enjoying themselves. They giggled to themselves and shared snide remarks with one another as they watched Leon make yet another futile attempt at getting the attention of Kyoko, who seemed fascinated by the large plant used for waste disposal in the center of the room. Once the baseball star finally grasped her disinterest, he sulked away towards Mondo. Makoto and Sayaka laughed at the sight, and then both of their faces turned serious all the sudden.

Concern grew in Mukuro’s mind. Makoto didn’t have very much going for him when compared to his classmates, which would normally have caused any other poor soul’s self esteem to shatter like glass. Makoto, however, seemed to be able to avoid this with his boundless optimism and ability to befriend anyone he met. These traits had made him into something of a mascot for the 78th class, his charming smile and can-do attitude having won the hearts of just about everyone he met at Hope’s Peak.

“Including my stupid, smelly big sis!” The sound of Junko’s voice beside her caused her to turn her head in surprise. Her sister’s face was just inches away from her own. Several embarrassing questions raced through her mind, but she was only able to voice one of them.

“How did you know what I was thinking?” Mukuro’s signature emotionless tone cracked somewhat whenever her sister made her uncomfortable like this.

“Well duh, you haven’t figured it out?” Junko brought one of her fingers up to her forehead. “I’m an Esper!”

A moment of silence passed between them as Mukuro failed to process this bizarre attempt at humor.

Junko’s face turned to a bored expression as she continued. “Yeah that joke’s really bad, I dunno why Sayaka always makes it.” She returned to fiddling with her hair with a sad look on her face. “So despair inducingly bad…” Junko’s mood changed in an instant. “Anyways,” She said, her voice filled with smug satisfaction as she brought her face even closer to Mukuro’s. “Speaking of that dumb banshee, you may wanna watch this!” Before Mukuro could question the sudden turn of events, Junko darted off, making her way towards Sayaka and Makoto.

Junko put her arm around Makoto in an overly friendly manner, which caught just caught just about everyone who saw it off guard. She said something that Mukuro wasn’t able to hear, and then both Makoto and Sayaka’s smiles returned to them. The idol turned to Makoto and gave him a reassuring nod before ruffling his hair in a teasing manner. After Makoto recovered from his childhood friends’ antics, an expression that Mukuro hadn’t seen on him before formed on his face and he walked towards Mukuro.

By the time Mukuro realized the expression on Makoto’s face was one of budding confidence, the luckster had already initiated conversation with her.

“So, what are you up to?” He asked, his confidence already beginning to wane.

Mukuro realized in an instant that something wasn’t right about this encounter. Makoto was well aware that Mukuro preferred not to engage in small talk, so most of their time together would either be spent on short, informative conversations or simply in silence. The fact that he opened up with such a generic, open ended greeting suggested that this was meant to be a segue into something Makoto was having difficulty talking about.

“What do you want?” Mukuro decided to spare them both her attempts at reciprocating these pleasantries.

He breathed a sigh of relief, clearly thankful that he was being allowed to cut to the chase. Makoto then turned to Sayaka and Junko, both of whom were rapt by the sight before them. It seemed to take them a second to notice that Makoto had begun looking at them. When they finally noticed, Sayaka gave him a reassuring smile. Junko, however, stared at Mukuro with a Cheshire grin that only served to further confuse the soldier.

“So,” Makoto continuing his inquiry snapped Mukuro back into reality. “Is there anyone you like?”

Mukuro’s instincts kicked in, and the whole world froze.

The soldier wasn’t an idiot. Despite her distaste for meaningless conversation, she was not, as many of her classmates believed, socially inept. She was, however, lacking in experience in romantic relationships. While this conversation was most likely headed in that direction, it would have been a devastating embarrassment to take the proverbial reigns of the conversation and outright ask him if he felt the same way. She had to gather more intel before proceeding.

“Uh, Mukuro, are you okay?” Makoto asked with a concerned look on his face.

Unfortunately, time did not literally freeze for Mukuro, who had been standing completely rigid for some time. She brought her hand to her cheeks and felt the heat coming from them, which only intensified as she realized how hard she was blushing.

“What do you mean, ‘like’?” She managed to stammer out, refusing to dwell on her embarrassment.

“Like, y’know,” He scratched the back of his head as he searched for the right words “If you like, _like,_ someone. Do you have a crush on anyone?”

She was right about the nature of this conversation after all. She learned from experience on the battlefield that even a moment of hesitation would result in her demise. She had to seize this opportunity to strike before it closed forever.

“Yes.” She stated and then once again froze up.

She just couldn’t finish the thought, unfortunately. Why would she, given how imminent the poor boy’s demise was? Would she spend however long she had left with him living a lie? She couldn’t risk it and she knew it. If she spent one more minute with that beautiful smile and those adoring eyes, she’d cave and tell him everything.

“Cause um… There’s someone I like. I don’t know how this is going to sound but… I like you!”

Makoto’s confession shook her to her core as she realized she wouldn’t be able to fight her true feelings. Mukuro was truly at a loss for words, too busy wrestling with her feelings of guilt to process the world around her. Makoto simply kept staring at her with that innocent smile that made her fall in love with him in the first place.

“Makoto, I…” She just couldn’t find the right thing to say. It wasn’t like she didn’t want to be with him, of course. She wanted to be able to call him hers and hold him in her arms more than anything in the world. It just wasn’t possible with her sister in the way though, but Junko wouldn’t allow her to have the hope that would come with a fulfilling romantic relationship.

“I don’t think I deserve you.” Mukuro had thought saying it out loud would somehow ease her despair, as though it were an object she could unload. Instead, it only seemed to make the air around her heavier. She’d confided in the lucky student before on multiple occasions about her guilt over her past deeds while in Fenrir, but for the first time the weight of what she was going to do in the near future had truly sunk in and incapacitated her.

“No, Mukuro, that’s wrong!” Makoto took her hands into his own, causing her heart to skip a beat.

“I know how you feel about what you did before you came to Hope’s Peak, but that doesn’t matter now!” Mukuro couldn’t help but notice how handsome Makoto looked whenever he asserted himself like this.

She once again reminded herself that even a moment of hesitation on the battlefield would end her life as she realized she’d been given one last chance at redemption.

“It’s not what I did, it’s just… there’s still some things I haven’t told you.” Junko had clearly trained her well, if Mukuro’s inability to just say what she needed to say was anything to go by.

“And me and the rest of your friends will forgive you for that too. I’ve told you before, we’ll stick by you no matter what. All you have to do is use your mind. Take control of those negative thoughts before they control you.” Makoto didn’t seem too focused on questioning what it was Mukuro was referring to in regard to the future, though the soldier couldn’t tell whether or not she was grateful for this.

Junko’s opinion on this budding romance became all too apparent to Mukuro as she approached the couple with a seemingly innocent smile on her face. She put her around Makoto’s shoulder and locked eyes with Mukuro. For but an instant, the fashionista’s face went completely devoid of emotion before turning back to her mischievous grin. Mukuro wasn’t so naïve as to misinterpret such a blatant display of dominance.

“So~, what are you two lovebirds up to?” She poked Makoto's cheek teasingly as she continued. “Is lucky boy about to actually get lucky? Hmm?”

“Look, Junko, we’re kind of in-“Makoto’s attempts at being the voice of reason were ultimately futile.

“Well, sure! I give you my blessings or whatever.” She cried obviously fake tears as she embraced her sister. “I’m so happy big sis Muku is finally growing up!” Mukuro did her best not to cry out in pain as Junko dug her nails into her back so hard, she was sure she’d drawn blood.

“Seriously Junko, I’m-“

“Absolutely dying to ravage my stupid, smelly big sis, I know.” Junko’s smile only got larger as she turned her gaze turned to Mukuro. “But unfortunately for you and your little ahoge, she and I have some business to take care of. Isn’t that right?”

It wasn’t actually meant to be a question.

“I’m sorry, Makoto, I promise I’ll be right back.” She made her promise more out of a hope that it would come true rather than her actual belief it would happen, but it seemed to satisfy him regardless. He gave the soldier an understanding nod as Junko took her by the arm and dragged her away. For an instant, Mukuro considered how little of her physical strength it would take to break her sister’s arm so she could stay here with Makoto, but she quickly chastised herself for these disgraceful thoughts.

Her sister mattered more than anything else.

The duo were stopped at the exit of the garden by Taka, who had yet to decide that his classmates had gotten enough sunshine and exercise.

“Enoshima! Ikusaba! I implore you both to stop right there!” The prefect held his hand up to signal the girls to stop.

“Celest is trying to start another poker tournament over there, y’know.” Junko wasted no time with her distraction.

“What!?” Taka was visibly shocked, despite this not being the first time Celeste had done this. “Thank you for this information, Enoshima! I shall disperse this unethical gathering at once!” He marched off without breaking his rigid posture.

Junko giggled to herself and made some comment on Taka’s intelligence that Mukuro found herself offended by for some reason, though she didn’t have time to ask herself why due to Junko’s nails digging into the skin of her forearm.

“Where are we going?” Mukuro asked as a feeling she didn’t quite understand grew larger and consumed more of her thoughts the farther she went from her classmates.

“You ask too many questions! Just shut up and wait for me to show you like you always do.” Junko’s voice was brimming with excitement despite her harsh words.

Mukuro wanted to apologize for wasting her sister’s precious time, but she just couldn’t focus on her transgressions due to her conflicting emotions.

The idea of breaking the fashionista’s frail arms became much more appealing as her lecture continued through their journey down to the fourth floor. In an attempt to block these thoughts, she returned her focus to Makoto, whose smile always managed to cheer her up. Unfortunately, the mental image of the luckster’s shining face only fanned the flames of this mutinous inferno growing in her head.

Mukuro was brought back to reality by the palm of her sister’s hand impacting with her cheek once she had pulled the two of them into the data center.

“-and then he was like ‘I _like_ like you!”! God, what a fucking virgin, am I right?” Junko’s crude imitation of Mukuro’s newfound love intensified her conflicting feelings.

“Why are we here?” Mukuro asked as she rubbed where Junko had pierced her forearm with her nails.

“Well maybe if you stopped drooling over that stupid goddamn twink for 5 minutes, you’d have heard my flawless master plan to plunge you and the rest of the fuckin’ world into despair!” Junko exclaimed as she made thorn signs with her hands. “Now get the fuck over here, I need your freaky brute strength to lift these things.” Junko began opening a set of boxes in the far corner of the room, having assumed Mukuro would help her on command.

However, the soldier stood at the entrance, petrified with anxiety as the events unfolding before her dawned on her.

“I take it from your stupefied silence that you need an explanation.” Junko said as she pushed up previously nonexistent glasses. “These are, as you may have guessed, the blackout lights we’re going to use to erase our classmate’s memories of us. I had originally planned to use these a few weeks from now, once the state of the world at large had gotten more unstable and riper for despair.”

A crown appeared on her head as quickly as the glasses disappeared. “But we’ve decided to accelerate these plans thanks to that foolish peasant, Makoto! You being forced to forced to throw away your budding romance would give us the ultimate despair!”

Mukuro didn’t move.

“What’s wrong big sis?” Junko brought her hands to her face in a cutesy manner as she moved towards her sister. “Could it be you’re so in love with Makoto you don’t know what to do? Does that just fill you with despair?”

Mukuro’s hands began to shake as Junko continued. There was a word for what she was doing with Junko, but Mukuro couldn’t remember it.

“Yeah, I get it, you don’t know whether you should keep doing what I say like you always do.” At this point her voice had lost all pretense of human emotion. “You’re so boring. Just pick of the lights and let’s get this over with.”

Mukuro was about to open her mouth, but her sister refused to give her the chance to speak. She remembered the word, but didn’t have the courage to say it.

“Wait a minute, don’t tell me you actually think you can defy me.” The playful smirk on Junko’s face didn’t match the immense weight of her words at all. “What would an idiot like you even do? Go crawling over to Makoto?” Her laughter pierced Mukuro’s heart like a spear. “He only likes the idea of you, y’know.” She raised her voice into a shout as she continued her verbal assault. “He’s too good for you! So just stop thinking and do as your told! Isn’t that all your talent is good for?”

Mukuro steadied her hands and clenched them into fists. She’d finally found the word she felt was accurate for her relationship with her sister.

“Seriously you dumb dog, I’m not humoring this bullshit anymore, now-“

“That’s the word I’ve been trying to find.” Mukuro said, her rage beginning to boil over and overtake her usual neutral tone of voice.

“What are you going on about now?” For what may very well have been the first time in her life, Junko Enoshima was confused by her sister.

“I’ve been humoring you.” Mukuro tried her best to embody the courage Makoto carried with him during his confession to her.

Junko’s smug grin returned, though even Mukuro could see this was an attempt to mask her indignation. “Oh really, _you’re_ the one humoring _me_. That’s rich.” She crossed her arms as she continued. “The only things you know how to do are take orders and kill things. I’m the only reason you left that stupid war crime treehouse club to begin with!”

“And I’m the only reason any of your moronic plans succeed!”

A deafening silence fell over the room as both despair sisters were shocked by Mukuro’s defiant shout. Not wishing to lose her element of surprise, Mukuro continued her verbal assault on her newfound enemy.

“Everything you’ve done so far has only happened just because you’ve pointed me at any obstacle in your way!” She shoved Junko away from her. “I will not be your dog anymore.”

“Okay sis, seriously this rebellious phase of yours is just disappointing now!”

Junko raised her fist to strike Mukuro. Mukuro dodged the blow effortlessly as Junko brought her fist down. She grabbed Junko’s wrist in one hand and brought a clenched palm down on the back of Junko’s elbow with such speed that the joint bent backwards.

All her life, Mukuro had dedicated herself to serving her younger sister. Her time in Fenrir had been spent honing her skills with the intent of becoming the weapon she would need to be in order to help Junko achieve her dream. From the moment they were reunited at Hope’s Peak, Mukuro threw her own thoughts and beliefs aside in the name of despair, hoping it would finally make her sister happy. Her bonds to her classmates had been nothing more than enjoyable distractions until this morning. Until now, she would have come running at even the smallest complaint or cry for help from the ultimate despair as though each one of those cries was a personal attack on her.

But now, Mukuro couldn’t help but feel ecstatic as the agonized shrieks of Junko reached her ears and she realized there was no turning back from this.

Junko said nothing after her wailing finally ceased. No witty comeback. No shift to a comedic personality. Just the look of a frightened animal in her eyes as she realized she was powerless.

“Do they really mean that much to you?” Junko spat out the words with a level of indignation Mukuro had never heard in anyone’s voice, let alone hers, before.

“Yes.” She responded with no hesitation.

Her classmates absolutely meant that much to her. The realization was initially surprising to Mukuro, but upon reflection she was just ashamed she hadn’t done this sooner. Thoughts of her friends swirled through her head and made her actions a blur.

She loved how patient and kind Celeste had been while teaching her how to play various card games, stating that she had the perfect poker face.

Mukuro walked towards Junko, who didn’t even back away from the approaching threat.

Mukuro would always be thankful for Sakura. She and the martial artist had quickly befriended one another. In between her missions for Junko, Mukuro would often find herself sparring with her in the dojo at the top of the school.

Junko, of all people, knew there was no point in fighting back.

Despite Aoi being intimidated by the soldier at first, she eventually broke through Mukuro’s icy exterior. Thanks to the swimmer and her excellent taste in local bakeries, Mukuro had developed quite the sweet tooth.

The twisted smile that had grown on Junko’s face was quickly wiped away as Mukuro shoved the barrel of her pistol into the fashionista’s mouth.

Most of all though, Mukuro was glad she’d met Makoto. His earnest belief in the good of his fellow man had flipped Mukuro’s world upside down in an instant. Every time she tried to save him by pushing him away, he’d reach out for her once more with even more hope than before. He truly believed she could be saved without even grasping the extent of what she’d done or what she would do. He’d taught her what love was, and made her realize that no one, not her parents, her comrades in Fenrir, nor even Junko, had loved her before.

Mukuro would never find it out if Junko had gotten any satisfaction from the despair of being betrayed by her own sister just as she was about to complete her master plan.

She wouldn’t allow Junko to have any last words.


	2. Well Of Mimir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Class 78 learns about Junko's true nature and debates on their next course of action.

If Mukuro could have one wish granted, it would be to take a shower.

A bizarre request, given the circumstances.

Her time in Fenrir had been full of hardship, with luxuries such as rest being cut beyond what most would consider to be the bare minimum. This discarding of needless expenditures meant that bathing had been a brief affair, never lasting more than five minutes. Those five minutes were usually the best part of her day, giving her solitude and time to think. For the soldier, time to think was in short supply at the moment.

That, and the fact that her dead sister’s blood and brains were still scattered across her face and clothing. If she had known she’d be forced to stew in Junko’s viscera after killing her, Mukuro probably would have just shot her from across the room.

As to whether or not shooting her in the first place was a good idea, she still couldn’t decide.

She’d hardly had a moment to herself after she’d taken control of her life from Junko. The rest of the shelter’s inhabitants came running immediately, having heard the gunshot from their position in the garden. From then, it only took a few seconds for the combined strength of Mondo and Sakura to break down the door to the data room. Panic had set in among them once they realized that Mukuro had undoubtably killed her, and she was quickly restrained to a chair and put in her dorm on the first floor until further notice. She put up no resistance whatsoever, partially out of a show of good faith, but mostly just because she was too shellshocked to process the events around her.

Regardless of her reasoning, there was no denying that the layers of duct tape keeping her bound to the office chair she was sitting on were only there because she allowed them to be.

Headmaster Kirigiri’s _actual_ method of restraining Mukuro was leaning on the wall next to her door, eying her like a hawk.

“Both Kyoko and the headmaster ordered me not to speak to you until they concluded their investigation,” Sakura got up from the wall and clenched her fist with a pained expression. “But my heart cannot abide by these orders.”

“What else is there for me to say?” Mukuro’s exhaustion was audible, but the soldier knew better than to be completely silent during an interrogation. The people she interrogated who did that would rarely last long.

“In truth, I am unsure what it is I want you to say.” The martial artist closed her eyes as uncertainty filled her voice. “I simply seek proof that what you say about your sister is true.”

“Do you think I’m lying?” Mukuro would be grateful to walk out of this with at least one of her friendships intact.

Sakura gazed at the floor for a moment, then let out a deep sigh before continuing. “No. You and I have shared the ring of honor countless times. I have seen your spirit in its purest form. However, this ‘killing game’ is a level of villainy I did not believe any human, let alone one of my classmates, would be capable of.”

Sakura’s next words nearly caused Mukuro to burst into tears.

“In addition, I am unsure whether or not I should still put this much trust in you, given the level of involvement you claim to have had in The Tragedy.”

The worst part about it is that her fears were completely justified. Just like every other part of Junko’s plans, The Tragedy would never have happened without Mukuro paving a road of bodies for her sister.

* * *

The investigation lead by the Kirigiris was much more akin to a debate than an attempt to piece together a crime scene. This was mostly because there wasn’t much of a crime to solve to begin with. Two people entered a room in a (very thoroughly) sealed building, and when everyone came in, one of those two people was dead. The fact that the other one was holding the gun only served to make the deductive process that much easier.

The reason this had become such an elongated affair was because this was the first time in both detectives’ memories where the motive was the subject of the case rather than the culprit. The case was expected to be open and shut, with no concern about what drove Mukuro to kill her own sister. They would have simply had their potentially dangerous culprit locked up in her dorm for the foreseeable future. However, Makoto had insisted that there was more to this story, claiming that Mukuro had told him her reason for her crime.

“So, suppose she’s telling the truth about Junko,” Jin’s voice was tinged with irritation and fatigue. “Why would she have a change of heart now? She’s already orchestrated The Tragedy, what could have possibly made her do this at the last minute?”

“That’s assuming this ‘killing game’ isn’t entirely made up. That could have all been a lie she was using to cover a personally motivated murder.” Kyoko wasn’t doing much better, though she seemed insistent on putting on a front of stoicism.

“That’s my point!” Makoto shouted as he pointed at Kyoko. “We don’t know anything about this murder because I’m the only one who’s actually given her a chance to tell her side of the story!”

“So you really believe her?” Kyoko sighed as she pinched her nose. “To be blunt, Makoto, your feelings for one another have never been much of a secret. You’ll have to forgive us if we think you’re being biased.”

“And what if it wasn’t just me being biased? What if I also had proof?” Makoto inquired, his voice only growing more defiant as the accusations against Mukuro continued.

“Word of advice, young Naegi, don’t admit to being biased like that.” Jin’s habit of using last names in a condescending manner always got on his daughter’s nerves.

“Whose side are you on here?” Kyoko’s accusation was unprofessional, to be sure, but she had difficulty maintaining said professionalism in the face of her absentee father.

“I’m not on anyone’s _side,_ and you shouldn’t be either. This is an investigation, and I’m asking a supposed witness to provide proof.”

“So you’ll let me talk to her again?” Makoto wanted to see Mukuro again more than anything else in the world right now, though he was still working out which of his reasons was most prevalent right now.

All eyes fell on the younger detective, and she finally relented after a moment of silence.

“Fine. You can enter her dorm, though Sakura will be in there with you. I’m not leaving a suspect alone with one of their sympathizers.”

Makoto didn’t bother thanking the pair of detectives before bolting off to the first floor.

* * *

The self deprication that Mukuro had sunk into after all potential conversation with Sakura had finally dried up was brought to a halt by the sound of knocking on her door. Sakura opened it after sparing a glance filled with equal parts sympathy and suspicion for Mukuro, expecting the Kirigiris’ to be the ones there to deliver the finally verdict on Mukuro’s innocence. Both girls were shocked when it was Makoto, alone and out of breath.

“What has happened? Are you well?” Sakura asked as she tensed up at the sight of the panting luckster.

“Huh?” He scratched his cheek, then brought his hands back down to his sides as he regained control over his train of thought. “Yeah, everything’s okay. I just came here because Kyoko said I could talk to Mukuro.”

The martial artist stepped aside to let him in, though she made sure he saw that she closed the door behind him, to signify that she would be in the room for this conversation. Normally, the infamously timid Makoto would have capitulated in the face of such a display from someone like Sakura. But now, his eyes were filled with hope as he walked towards Mukuro and sat on the foot of the bed near her chair.

“I take it you’re not here to tell me I’m free to go.”

Makoto chuckled at Mukuro’s quip, though his eyes were devoid of any actual humor.

“They told me to come talk to you because we trust each other.” He seemed unsure how to continue from this sentence, judging from his furrowed brow. He put his arm around her shoulder and the doubt plaguing the soldier’s mind vanished for an instant as both their cheeks turned scarlet. “Look, I believe you Mukuro, I really do. You wouldn’t lie to me!”

If Makoto understood the irony in his words, he made no note of it. After all, if she was telling the truth now, then that would only mean she’d been living a lie throughout their entire time at Hope’s Peak.

“But the others still doubt you. Is there something in the school that could prove what you say about Junko is true?”

She couldn’t let him down, no matter what.

Not after he smiled at her like that.

“I have an idea, but I need you to untie me,”

She exhaled deeply before stating the next requirement for her plan.

“And I need to go back to the data room.”

* * *

It took ages of pleading, but Mukuro was finally allowed to leave her dorms under the continued supervision of Sakura. Her walk up to the data room was not impeded by any of the rest of the class, though the glares of fear and accusation had almost caused the poor soldier’s legs to give in on multiple occasions. Mukuro was terrified at the thought of her friends no longer trusting her.

Makoto’s hand having locked with hers was the only thing that kept her from charging through the crowd of students following behind them and running straight back to her dorm.

Makoto opened the door to the data center, ignoring the glare Kyoko shot him as the rest of the class filed in behind him.

Mukuro noticed none of this. Her gaze was fixed on the bloodstains on the wall where she had killed her sister. At Makoto’s request, her body had been moved to the freezers on the top floor. Unfortunately, time was of the essence and the bloodstains would simply have to stay. Makoto’s explanation of their need for urgency did little comfort Mukuro as she was forced to face this manifestation of her uncertainty.

“You said there was proof here your sister was some crazy fiend, right? So where the fuck is it?” Mondo breaking the silence that had fallen over the room without her noticing caused her to flinch. She formed her hand that wasn’t holding on to Makoto into a tightly balled fist and walked to the end of the room. She would always be grateful that he began moving forward with her.

“So, umm, what exactly is it you plan to show us?” Sayaka asked.

Mukuro turned to face her classmates and began speaking. “Junko’s plan hinged on me making sure that the two of us were the only ones who entered the data room, so the interface used to control Monokuma is in here.” She explained.

“And by ‘Monokuma’, you’re referring to the mascot used by ultimate despair, correct?” Jin inquired, his calm demeanor at odds with the hushed tone that fell over the room upon the mention of the group that had forced them to take shelter in the academy.

“That’s right.” Mukuro confirmed Jin’s suspicions and opened the door to the “supply closet” in the back of the room to reveal the set of controls used to interface with the Monokuma bots, with a motionless Monokuma sitting right next to the controls.

The reveal had sufficiently shocked most of the class, but Byakuya stepped forward, argument at the ready.

“So we have undeniable proof that this killing game was going to take place. But that’s it.” He sneered as he tilted his head upward to look down upon the soldier. “What makes you all think that Junko was the mastermind to begin with?”

Hifumi pushed up his glasses and cleared his throat with a smirk. “Mr. Togami, if I may, I-“

“You may not.” The heir to the Togami family would not let such a lowly man make a fool of him.

“Togami, if the man has evidence than we have to hear it.” Jin stated, causing the heir to clench his fist in anger.

Hifumi took a moment to collect himself before continuing. “As I was saying,” He placed a hand on his hip and raised his chin as he held out his sketchbook to reveal several drawings of monochromatic bear in various comedic poses and outfits. “Miss Enoshima had, on multiple occasions, commissioned me to draw designs for this ‘Monokuma’.” His shoulders sank once he realized how much involvement he’d unknowingly had with Ultimate Despair. “Had I known they would use the noble realm of 2D for such evil…”

Hifumi’s testimony had thrown everyone, especially Byakuya, through a loop. No one had expected such a critical piece of evidence to come from the portly pervert. With the new evidence, there could no longer be any doubt of the true identity of the ultimate despair. The air in the room became heavy as the residents of the shelter looked at each other for answers when all they had was questions.

“So what now?” Celeste asked the question that was on everyone’s minds, her literal poker face unwavering in the face of adversity. Their eyes turned to Mukuro, who felt the obligation to answer yet had no way of doing so.

“W-What do you mean, ‘what now’? It’s over, w-we beat the ultimate despair. All we have to do is wait out The Tragedy, right?” Touko said as she fiddled with her braids.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Mukuro replied. “The killing game was meant to be broadcast internationally as a way to spread despair. The other members of Junko’s organization are probably waiting for the broadcast to start. Once they notice it’s taking too long, they’ll come and investigate.”

“And what do you suggest we do about this?” Celeste asked as she put her hands below her chin and put on a forced smile. Mukuro avoided her gaze, but this only seemed to agitate the gambler. “Come now, did you expect us to not turn to you for answers? You did almost have us kill each other for sport, it is only natural we would expect you to right your wrongs.”

Makoto jumped to Mukuro’s defense while still holding her hand. “Celeste, this is unreasonable, and you know it! She saved our lives…”

“Are you kidding, little guy? She’s totally right!” Hiro shouted in an uncharacteristically serious manner. “Just cause she stopped the game before it started doesn’t mean she’s cool now, y’know. She’s breaking even on karma right now.”

Byakuya stepped forward to make his case. “An excellent philosophical argument, Yasuhiro- “

“Woah, thanks dude!”

“I wasn’t finished.” Byakuya said as he glared at Hiro. “As I was saying, these arguments over Mukuro’s responsibilities are all very interesting. However, none of them matter right now. As she said, we have a very limited amount of time to find a way to defend ourselves or seek new shelter.”

“I would suggest the latter.” Jin replied. “Assuming Tengan was true to his word, there should be an organization out there dedicated to the eradication of despair. Perhaps they can help us escape this place.”

“Yeah that’s great and all, but how are we supposed to contact them, idiot? We cut off all communication with the outside world, remember? And it’s not like we can just step outside and holler for them!” Leon’s phrasing was as crude as ever, but his point was impossible to ignore.

“No, that’s wrong!” Makoto interjected. “We do have one way.” He scratched his cheek, clearly uncertain in his own idea. The others visibly recoiled upon realizing what Makoto was referring to.

“You truly mean to suggest…” Sakura could not even finish her sentence.

“Mukuro, you said the events of the killing game would be broadcast all over the world, right?” He clasped both of the soldier’s hands in his own as he continued. “That’s it, then! We can just use whatever broadcasting system you guys set up for the killing game! There’s no way Tengan’s organization wouldn’t see our cry for help that way!”

“Well, yeah, but wouldn’t the bad guys see us too?” Aoi asked despite not being able to think of an alternative.

“That’s a risk we’ll just have to be willing to take,” Kyoko reassured her. “As the alternative seems to be just waiting to die.”

“That’s… really not as comforting as you think it is.” Sayaka said with a serious look on her face.

“So, we’re all in agreement on using the broadcasting system to call for help, right?” Byakuya said as he pushed up his glasses with a smirk. “In that case, I have an idea to make this more interesting.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And with that the second chapter is done :D  
> Also i promise theres gonna be some actual naekusaba content next chapter  
> 


	3. Yggdrasil Trembles

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mukuro turns to Makoto for comfort, and the 78th class makes contact with the outside world.

“Come now, Naegi, our lives are on the line, do you really think I suggested this just because I thought it would be funny?” Byakuya asked, clearly not taking this completely seriously.

“Well, yeah… I figured that much from the fact that you were laughing.”

“I’ll admit you’re not entirely wrong, but consider this; the whole world will see this broadcast, correct? A world consumed by despair. What they need is a dramatic comeback for hope, and I can think of no better way to show the world despair has lost.” The heir said as he pushed up his glasses.

“But Mukuro-“

“Will just have to understand.” Celeste’s interjection wasn’t especially loud, yet it cut through Makoto’s words like a blade. “What right does she have to complain about using such appalling imagery on television, given what she and her sister had planned?”

“Can’t you see this is going to far?” Makoto pleaded. “There must be some other way to make this ‘dramatic reveal’.”

Byakuya sighed and shook his head. “Very well… you two lovesick dogs can have this one thing. We’ll find some other way to make this interesting.”

Makoto wanted to make a comment on the fact that Byakuya wouldn’t be so willing to disrespect the ultimate soldier if they were in the same room but had run out of energy due to all that had happened that day. He left without another word.

After taking a moment to ensure that Makoto was certainly out of earshot, Celeste spoke up. “You aren’t actually going to listen to his request, are you?”

Byakuya chuckled as he responded. “You of all people should have been able to recognize such an obvious lie.”

* * *

That evening, Mukuro finally got that shower she’d so desperately needed.

However, unlike every other shower before this one, it had done little to clear her thoughts.

She’d spent most of it furiously scrubbing her face as though her sister’s viscera were still coating it. Fortunately, the soldier had managed to keep enough of her faculties to stop herself from scrubbing and scratching further before she ended up drawing blood. She’d never obtained so much as a scrape or a bruise while fighting in the many wars she’d begun and ended, and she wasn’t about to ruin her own reputation. When that was done, she stared at the spot on her forearm where Junko had grabbed her with those tacky fake nails. Those markings were now the only trace of the metaphorical collar that used to be around her neck.

Thoughts of doubt and obedience crept into her mind as she thought about her sister’s last words.

_“Do they really mean that much to you?”_

Her initial response had been without hesitation, but now she couldn’t help but wonder if she’d made the right choice.

She knew, logically speaking, that the answer was yes. Junko had proven herself, beyond a shadow of a doubt, to be a threat to the people around her. Mukuro knew that even she herself would have been killed by Junko in her quest for despair eventually. Initially, she’d embraced this role. After all, a soldier’s purpose is to fulfill orders and die at the request of their commander.

This was a natural progression, all things considered. The twins’ parents left the picture early into their childhood, though Mukuro wasn’t entirely convinced they had simply run away from home like the police reports suggested. From there, Junko had kept her on a tight leash during the time they’d spent living on the streets, never letting her speak with others outside of what they needed in order to survive. This caused Mukuro to develop a tendency not to socialize unless it was for some greater purpose, a habit that had extended all the way to her time in Fenrir, causing to be cold and uncaring under circumstances that have always been said to forge unbreakable bonds.

That had begun to change thanks to the larger than life personalities she’d encountered in her school life. Her attempts at avoiding the formation of attachments had been initially successful but were futile in the face Taka ensuring that all students in his class would enjoy their academic crusade together to the fullest. While it had started off as Kizakura begrudgingly presenting ‘group projects’ that Mukuro had taken as an opportunity to gain intel on potential threats, she found it increasingly difficult to deny the genuine connections she’d made with the people around them.

Sparring with Sakura went from being a method prevent her skills from rusting to an exercise in trust and companionship between two warriors as they shared their tales of victory with one another. Her time spent learning poker with Celeste started as a school assignment to broaden one’s horizons, but over time it had become an amusing diversion as Mukuro realized her intuition and stone cold demeanor had made her well built for games of lies. She’d even made a habit of using her free time to follow Aoi around as she rambled about American celebrities and practically forced her favorite fried treats into the soldier’s mouth.

However, all those extraordinary individuals paled in comparison to the perfectly normal boy who’s only redeeming quality was believing in her.

Realizing that this ordinary boy was exactly who she needed to get these demons out her head, she quickly got dressed and waited outside his dorm for him to answer her knocking. In the time it took for the luckster to answer the door, Junko’s words only grew louder in her ears.

_“He only likes the idea of you, y’know. He’s too good for you!”_

Makoto was a remarkably heavy sleeper, if his tardiness to answer could be used as an indication. He was still rubbing his eyes and yawning when he opened the door and was only clad in his nightwear. Makoto’s hair was presumably unkempt and messy from having been in bed, but Mukuro could hardly notice the difference given what it normally looked like. His posture straightened as he looked up to meet her gaze.

“O-Oh, Mukuro? Is everything alright?” Makoto felt obligated to ask the question, but it didn’t take the likes of Kyoko to guess the answer from her disheveled appearance and hitched breathing.

Fratricide tended to have that effect on people.

_“What would an idiot like you even do? Go crawling over to Makoto?”_

Apparently, yes.

Mukuro brought him into a hug with a level of force Makoto couldn’t prepare himself for, earning a small cry of surprise that was muffled upon his head hitting her chest. Right now, feeling Makoto pressed against her was the only thing maintaining her grip on her emotions. Makoto seemed to understand this and wrapped his arms around her in turn. The feeling of Makoto’s embrace brought a smile to her face for a moment.

“Can I come in?” Mukuro asked after a period of silence that neither of them were particularly looking forward to ending.

Makoto stepped out of their impromptu hug and motioned to the inside of his room, and Mukuro wordlessly sat down at the end of his bed. Makoto followed behind her, sitting down next to her and interlocking their fingers. They sat there in silence for some time, with Mukuro simply staring at the floor while Makoto looked at her expectantly.

“I just wish I wasn’t so selfish.” Mukuro finally said, her voice hushed and laden with guilt.

“What do you mean, ‘selfish’?” Makoto asked.

“I just…” Mukuro sighed as she took the time to find the right words. “I know what I did was right,” She began tracing her thumb along the outside of Makoto’s hand. “But I wish I could go back and undo it.”

Makoto was silent for a while, and his brow furrowed as he contemplated the soldier’s words. Mukuro prepared herself for a lecture on morality that would never come.

“Y’know, I’ve got a sister too.” Makoto finally spoke up, his voice far kinder than Mukuro had anticipated. “She’s probably the best friend I’ve ever had, so I can understand why you regret this so much. She went missing a few days before we locked ourselves in here, and I don’t know how I’d handle it if something happened to her. I can only imagine what you must be going through.”

There were plenty of things Junko had never thought to tell Mukuro about the Ultimate Despair, and she’d never truly grasped how far and wide it had reached its foul tendrils until the moment she saw the world in a state so terrible that the class had willingly sealed itself away in Hope’s Peak. She had no concrete information on what had happened to his sister, but she could hazard a guess.

However, that was a conversation for another time.

Tonight, it would just be about the two of them.

“She was your ‘friend’?” Mukuro asked.

“Of course!” Makoto’s immediate response had shaken Mukuro, unaware that siblings could have such a relationship.

“She’s a year younger than me, but she and I have been practically attached at the hip since we were kids.” He smiled softly as his gaze turned from Mukuro and went off into the distance. “She would always get so upset when people made jokes about my height. I’m not sure why, though, considering how often she’d make those jokes herself.”

He waved his empty hand in front of himself apologetically. “Anyways, we’re getting off track here, sorry to- “

“No, I think you just told me everything I needed to hear.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” Makoto asked.

The soldier was visibly struggling to hold back tears as she continued. “Junko and I never had anything like that. She just…”

Mukuro knew exactly what had been happening between the two of them throughout all of their lives. Junko had never loved her; she’d never even pretended to. She just dragged her own sister around like some kind of rabid animal, pointing her at whatever or whoever she needed removed from her path to despair. Mukuro had openly embraced this role, but not out of some sort of death wish. She’d done everything in the name of a love that Junko was incapable of reciprocating.

What Makoto was describing, this willingness to do anything for a family member but with that feeling being mutual, was what she had assumed existed between herself and Junko this whole time. But it had become increasingly clear from her time at Hope’s Peak what this sort of love she’d longed for truly looked like.

“She just used me.” Saying it out loud made the realization hit her like a kick in the head.

Makoto ran his fingers through her hair, and that was it for her. She couldn’t hold back her tears anymore. Mukuro just sobbed into his shoulder as he continued patting her head. Every crime she’d committed, every life she’d taken, they all came pouring out through the tears that now soaked Makoto’s shoulder. Every stroke of his fingers through her jet black hair eased the grief and guilt just a little bit more.

After a period of time Mukuro couldn’t make sense of, she slumped over, sprawled out at the end of Makoto’s bed. Despite not having gone through even a fraction of her usual exercise routine today, she’d never been this tired before. She made whatever pathetic motions towards getting up that her body would allow before being stopped by the sound of Makoto’s voice.

“You can just spend the night here, if you want.”

She didn’t immediately respond, causing him to become flustered. “I d-didn’t mean it like that! You just seemed tired, and – “

“No, I’d like that.” She mumbled as she made her way under the covers. His reaction would have normally prompted no small amount of teasing and ‘herbivore’ comments, but she was much too tired to care.

Sensing it would be best not to put up too much of a fight, Makoto promptly crawled under the covers with her. She surprised him again by wrapping her around him, and a smile grew on her face as she felt how quickly his heart had begun to pound in response. She brought her face closer to his and fell asleep almost immediately upon doing so. Makoto simply laid there for what felt like ages, both grateful for this experience but nervous that someone might see this and get the wrong idea. As he finally drifted off to sleep, his thoughts turned to Mukuro’s words to him, and he hoped that she knew she had made the right choice after all.

* * *

“I’m home!” Nagito Komaeda shouted to an empty house with dust collecting on its furnishings. The joke of greeting his dead parents had stopped being amusing a long time ago, but it helped maintain a sense of normality.

Given that Nagito had deemed it appropriate to spend no small amount of his fortune from the many lotteries he’d won on restoring and maintaining his childhood home, it would make sense to assume that he cared for the place considerably. However, many of its utilities had fallen into disrepair and its hygiene left much to be desired. Nagito would simply tell anyone who asked that he’d never been “big on cleaning”, but few people had ever actually been inside his house, considering how anti-social he was.

Hygiene was, as always, the last thing on Nagito’s mind at the moment. Though this was especially the case today, given what would be happening any day now according to Junko.

The symbols of hope would be locked in battle, mind, body, and soul, for their very lives as they were pit against one another in a game of wits. Being forced to suspect and doubt one another until someone successfully got away with murder in the face of an entire class of ultimates or only two of them remained would create a level of despair never before seen. This despair would only grow worse as the entire world would be forced to witness the hopes of a generation suspect, doubt, and murder each other.

Naturally, Nagito was bursting with excitement at the thought of all of this.

Despair and hope were two sides of the same coin, after all. He knew in his heart that whatever despair this killing game would create would pale in comparison to the hope that would rise from its ashes like a phoenix, cleansing despair from the world with its fiery wings.

He turned on the tv and an electronic crackle buzzed through the room before images appeared on the screen. Tragically, the signal hadn’t been put out yet, and his television was still displaying the meaningless drivel that the untalented masses amused themselves with on a daily basis. All things considered, the ultimate despair taking over the world had been strangely uneventful for the entertainment industry.

He switched the channel over to a local news station reporting on the bomb that had gone off just two doors down from where he was, scattering fiery debris everywhere (Except his house, of course) and killing dozens. The names of the dead and the injured flew across the screen, and Nagito made a point of not remembering any of them. As pathetic as his talent was, he was still an ultimate, and ultimates should not concern themselves with the meaningless dregs of society.

His heart began to race as the signal faded, and static filled the screen for a few seconds. Moments later, a monochromatic bear that Nagito was far too familiar with for his liking appeared on screen.

“Ahem, testing, testing, is this thing on?” Monokuma asked as he made comically exaggerated motions to adjust himself in his seat, spilling the brightly colored drink in his hand all over the floor with every cartoonish flail. He brought his red eye close to the camera and giggled before continuing.

“All right! Ladies, Gentlemen, and those of you who know better, I am Monokuma; the new headmaster of Hope’s Peak Academy! Now before I introduce you all to the students of Hope’s Peen, let me explain what’s going to make _this_ semester oh so despair inducingly exciting!”

As “Monokuma” explained the rules of the killing game and how the class had their memories of each other and current events erased, Nagito’s senses were overwhelmed as he imagined what sort of hope could be spawned from such a despair inducing event. Perhaps the students would figure out the secrets that Junko was hiding from them and confront her with them. Maybe they’d be rescued by Future foundation after a few murders had taken place, though Nagito didn’t like this possibility for its anticlimactic nature. After all, hope cannot shine at its brightest without an appropriate level of despair for it to counteract.

“And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for!” Monokuma shouted as he jumped from his chair and leaned in towards the camera as it zoomed in on him. "The Killing game of Hope’s Peak Academy…” The mechanical bear went limp and tipped over as the camera zoomed back out.

“Has been cancelled.” A voice from off camera said, exuding authority with every word.

“Huh?” Was the only sound Nagito could manage to make at the sight before him.

The camera panned up as Byakuya Togami walked into view, carrying what appeared to be a body bag.

“The mastermind behind this killing game, Junko Enoshima, is dead.” He stated as though it were some sort of unremarkable fact of life. Byakuya pulled down the zipper and, true to his word, there was the corpse of the ultimate despair herself, blood stuck to her lips from the gunshot that had ended her life.

“Her sister, Mukuro Ikusaba, killed her yesterday before the game could start.”

Nagito could hardly believe the sight before him. Beyond a shadow of a doubt, that was Junko’s corpse.

“To anyone who seeks the survivors from Hope’s Peak Academy, we haven’t left the school. Friend or foe, we await you here.”

Just like that, the transmission cut off. The tv switched back to the live footage of the reporting crew near his house, too busy trying to solve their “technical problems” to notice that they had gone live again.

Nagito could only stare at the screen in stupefied silence.

His shock quickly turned into rage. This went against everything he believed in. This was no grand showdown between hope and despair. No one’s courage would be tested by these events, nor would anyone’s spirits be broken. Such an abrupt, peaceful ending would not be the bright, shining monument to hope that the world so desperately needed in these trying times. He didn’t bother trying to collect his thoughts before storming out of the house. Towa city awaited him.

He would not allow the title of “Ultimate Hope” to be stolen from him by some glorified attack dog.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel a lot better about this chapter than the previous one, but what do you guys think :O


	4. The Frost Giant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mukuro meets and old friend(?) and tries to repair her relationships with her classmates.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was originally gonna be two chapters but they were both really short so I mashed them together into one big chapter :D  
> Also edited the fic so all the chapters have names  
> Also Also i PINKY PROMISE i read all those lovely comments you guys leave about how great this fic is over and over >.< I just get too flustered to respond ;-;

Mukuro darted forward, taking the initiative this time. Sakura dodged with a level of speed that contradicted the bulk of her body and brought her elbow down on top of Mukuro’s shoulder. The blow knocked her out of her momentum and on to the ground, and Sakura wasted no time putting her in an armlock.

“Your speed is far greater than usual, though you telegraph your attacks too much.” Sakura commented as she released Mukuro from her grip. “Your emotions cloud your thoughts and impede your actions.”

This much was to be expected. It had only been three days since she’d killed Junko and the rest of the class had let the world outside Hope’s Peak know of their situation. Thoughts of regret for her actions and anxiety about her future rattled through her skull like bullets and made every moment a haze. She could hardly even muster up the level of anger typically expected of one when their sister’s corpse was used as a prop on international television. Although Mukuro was angry about this, she wasn’t sure how justified this anger was given that she was the one who’d made the corpse in the first place.

Sakura continued her lecture as she helped her sparring partner off the dojo floor. “I understand recent events have been… difficult for you, but we cannot allow our skills to falter.” She clenched her fist in pain. “The hordes pounding on the entrance to the school will take any moment of weakness they can get.”

Class 78 had faith that Tengan’s organization would be coming any day now, though the rapidly growing mob outside made escape from this place less likely by the second. At this point, Mukuro was not worried that extraction would fail to arrive, but that their rescuers would be driven away by the despair obsessed fanatics that had made camp outside the academy while trying to find ways to break down the walls. The defenses that had been installed into the school would make short work of any would-be intruders for now, but Mukuro knew that it was a matter of time before the more dangerous members of ultimate despair showed themselves.

“Again.” Mukuro said, determined to score a victory this time.

“No. You need to recuperate. Rest can heal the mind just as effectively as it heals the body.” Sakura ordered, her harsh tone not matching the soft smile on her face. Mukuro opened her mouth to protest these commands, but Sakura was already leaving the dojo.

She stood there alone for a moment, trying to think of what to do with herself now that she was not allowed to throw herself into combat to clear her thoughts. She kicked around the idea of just opening the front door to the school and charging into the swarm of ravenous cretins thirsting for their blood, though she knew she couldn’t endanger everyone else in the school like that. Her dreams of martyrdom were cut off by the sound of the dojo door sliding open.

“Hey Mukuro!” Makoto shouted as he waved at her. “Sakura told me to-“A look of fear grew on his face and was soon replaced by a sheepish smile. “Tell you that I walked in here of my own accord…” His voice trailed off as he realized he’d blown his own cover before it had even been set up.

“What do you want?” She snapped.

“I-I’m sorry, it’s just that I was gonna get some doughnuts with Aoi, and I wanted to know if you’d want some too…” He could barely maintain eye contact as Mukuro glared him down.

Mukuro knew in the back of her mind that Sakura was right and decided it would probably be best to just save them both the trouble now. Besides, Makoto looking at her with those sad eyes was far worse than any battle that waited her in the future.

“I’m sorry I yelled at you like that.” She managed to stammer out as she turned her gaze to the floor.

“Oh, it’s okay!” Makoto accepted her apology without missing a beat as he walked up to her. “So, is that a yes?” He asked, looking up to meet her eyes with that same smile that Mukuro swore could literally light up a room.

“Sure.” She responded as she took his hand. It’d been too long since she’d eaten something sweet.

* * *

The tent that Fuyuhiko Kuzuryu had spent his nights in was just about the most uncomfortable fucking thing he’d ever slept in, but that hardly mattered given his reason for being here. When he’d first showed up to the academy with Peko in tow upon seeing the broadcast, the mewling little shits that had already gathered there to try and claim Mukuro’s head threw themselves at their feet like they were gods of some kind. Peko took care of the ones he’d found really fucking annoying, while the more tolerable dregs were tasked with making him comfortable. Clearly, they’d failed miserably but he didn’t spend that much time in it to begin with, opting instead to stare at Hope’s Peak from a safe distance so as not to trigger its security measures.

From the moment that uptight prick had told the whole world what had become of the supreme leader of the Ultimate Despair, an unspoken agreement had passed among its members that the head of that damned traitor was to be a coveted prize. Fuyuhiko had decided to cut the formalities out of this arrangement and offered five billion yen to whoever could bring him proof of her death. Naturally, he wanted to be there to oversee her execution and ensure that vengeance would be properly rewarded.

That, and the fact that he and Peko still owed Yasuhiro’s kneecaps a visit. No apocalypse would keep the ultimate Yakuza from ensuring that those who wronged his family members would be punished.

However, no amount of money could change the fact that there wasn’t a goddamn thing he could do to open that stupid fucking door at the front of the academy. He’d initially tried to use strategic assaults to overwhelm its automatic turrets, but they just fired too fast and would cut through their numbers like a hot knife through butter. Even the family specialists Fuyuhiko had brought in couldn’t remotely disable the security systems, saying it was a “closed network” or whatever the fuck. Fuyuhiko had to admit there had to have been at least some grounds to that excuse considering that no amount of finger-severing made them do their jobs any better, so the only thing he could do was make sure the mob that had followed him here wouldn’t leave and pray that Kazuichi or someone else who actually knew what they were doing would show up.

To ensure that this newfound militia would stay under his thumb, he took up the habit of making them gather in front of the front gates of Hope’s Peak and giving them meaningless speeches about glory in despair or whatever. They ate it up every time for whatever reason, even as Fuyuhiko himself stopped giving a damn about what he was saying. After his latest speech he waved his hands to signal the crowd to get their ugly fucking mugs away from him as he made his way to his tent to find out what Peko’s excuse was for not being there to stand next to him gormlessly like she always does.

“Peko, you fucking idiot!” Fuyuhiko shouted as he opened the flap to his tent. “I swear to god if you-“

Peko was sprawled out on the floor, completely motionless. A few feet from her sat a stranger in the Hope’s Peak academy uniform.

“Okay, so you got past the meat shield; am I supposed to be impressed?” Fuyuhiko asked as he regained his composure from the initially startling display.

The stranger attempted to reassure him for some fucking reason. “She’s not dead, killing either of you would be- “

“When the fuck did I ask if she was okay, dumbass!? Just tell me what you want!” He roared.

The stranger sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. He was silent for a moment before explaining himself. “I am here to see Mukuro, nothing more.”

“Yeah, well, get in line you cocky shit.” Fuyuhiko responded, his rage growing with every deliberately vague response the stranger gave.

“You misunderstand. I am here to see Mukuro alone. You all need to leave.” The stranger requested, as if he hadn’t just asked the head of the motherfucking Kuzuryu clan to just up sticks and leave solely at the behest of some weirdo who looked like he'd never gotten a haircut in his life.

Fuyuhiko slung his baseball bat over his shoulder, ready to give it yet another blood stained dent. “And what makes you think I’m gonna listen to a goddamn thing you say!?” No way in hell would he allow this chump to just waltz in and steal such a valuable kill from him.

“So you won’t leave unless I use force?” The stranger asked, completely unwavering in the face of Fuyuhiko’s display of violent intent.

“You think I'm gonna let your sorry ass leave after ordering me around like that?! I'll paint the floor with your fuckin' brains!” He shouted as he lunged forward.

The stranger effortlessly stopped the bat by grabbing it in his hand and began to stand up, his scarlet eyes peering straight through Fuyuhiko’s soul.

“How boring.”

* * *

“This was incredibly irresponsible of you three! I implore you to rethink your actions as you spend your time in detention until further notice!” Taka shouted, as boisterous as ever. It reminded Mukuro of that day in the garden, but she didn’t let herself focus on that for too long.

Aio’s plans to spend some time in the dining hall with Makoto and Mukuro quickly bored her, as evidenced by her complaints of being a “third wheel”. As always whenever she was bored, she challenged the people nearest to her to a race. Mukuro had initially refused, but Makoto insisted that it was fine. He was clearly regretting this decision now, regardless of detention being assigned to them by Taka, given how hard he was forced to run just to keep the other two in his sights.

This race had been brought to an abrupt end by the interference of Taka who, even now with every possible kind of threat looming around them, was determined to uphold the school’s rules of no running in the halls. He had no hope of catching Mukuro and Aoi, though he had no need to. He simply held Makoto by his scruff as a hostage, causing Mukuro to stop dead in her tracks. From there, Aoi slowed down to see why Mukuro wasn’t neck and neck with her anymore, but it was already too late by the time she realized what was happening.

While Makoto took this disciplinary measure as an opportunity to catch his breath, the two girls were bouncing their legs restlessly, resentful of Taka for having ended their sport. Aoi watched as Taka left the room, then waited a moment before grinning and pulling a donut wrapped in paper out of her pocket. She broke it in half and offered one half to Mukuro.

“Want some?” Aoi asked, her mouth already full of the other half of the donut.

“Not hungry.” She curtly responded. Mukuro had already gotten her fill of sweets in the dining hall, and the prospect of sweaty pocket donuts was not especially tempting at the moment.

Aoi turned and offered it to Makoto, but she wasted no time finishing the whole thing upon realizing that he was asleep. Mukuro reached over and ruffled his hair, and when that didn’t get a response out of him, she went back to staring at her desk.

This was as good of a time as any to ask Aoi what she thought of her, but the words to do so eluded Mukuro. She was afraid that addressing her betrayal of her friends and contribution to the Tragedy would make it all the more real to Aoi and force any doubts the swimmer had into the light.

“So um… about the whole… y’know…” Aoi attempted to ask, equally unsure how to address the elephant in the room.

“Do you still trust me?” Mukuro figured it would be best to cut to the heart of the matter.

“I… I’m not really sure.” She responded. Mukuro could hardly manage to continue making eye contact as Aoi sat there in silence, trying to find a way to vocalize her feelings. “I mean, we had a lot fun together during our school days. But like, I don’t know what I’m supposed to think of you now! Were you really planning on killing us this whole time?” Aoi looked at her with an expression that seemed to beg Mukuro to tell her that this was all some misunderstanding, but she could provide no such comfort.

Aoi took Mukuro’s silence as a cue to continue. “So what was all that time we spent together?”

“I swear, I really do think of you as a friend! I killed my own sister for you, what more proof do you need?” Mukuro pleaded with her.

That last sentence seemed to quell Aoi’s doubts. They both slumped back in their chairs wordlessly. After a period of awkward silence, Aoi spoke up again.

“Look, I’m sorry-“

“I’m the one who needs to be sorry.” Mukuro interjected. She wouldn’t allow anyone to try and downplay all that she had done, even if she wanted to move on from it.

“Well yeah, but just listen!” Aoi shouted in response. Mukuro supposed she should be disappointed that Aoi made no attempt to comfort her, but she knew it was deserved. “I was gonna say I’m really sorry I snapped like that!” She scratched her cheek and her voice grew softer as she continued. “I should have tried to see things from your perspective. I mean, I can’t even imagine what Yuta would have to do to make want to kill him!” A pouty look formed on her face as she crossed her arms. “Though him running away from home right before we got locked up in here made me angry enough to think about it.”

“He ran away from home?” Mukuro asked, hoping against all odds that this conversation wasn’t going where she thought it was.

“Well, we don’t actually know if that’s what happened.” Aoi explained, then pumped her fists with a determined expression on her face. “But there’s no way my little brother got kidnapped or something! He’s way too tough for that.”

Now two of her classmates had their siblings go missing right before the killing game should have begun. Mukuro didn’t have the same level of deductive reasoning skills of either of the detectives that she was sharing this glorified bunker with, but she didn’t need to in order to know this wasn’t a coincidence.

A knock on the door of the classroom caused Makoto to finally begin waking up, having slept through the girl’s emotional confrontation with ease. As he yawned and slowly stretched his arms, the other two girls straightened their backs to avoid another lecture from Taka about the importance of good posture. To their surprise, however, Jin Kirigiri was the one who opened the door, though Taka was directly behind him.

“Taka, I appreciate what you’re trying to accomplish, I really do, but this is an emergency.” Jin explained to the boy as he walked in the room.

The headmaster turned to his students and explained himself. “I’m afraid I’ve been forced to cut this bonding exercise short. There’s an emergency at the front gates.”

Nobody had the time to question what sort of bonding exercise was happening once Jin mentioned the entrance to the school.

“What’s the emergency?” Mukuro asked, ready to enact her contingency plans should the school have been breached without her knowledge. She had plans, of course, but they relied heavily on the class being given at least some time to prepare. This situation was far from ideal.

“There is no need to worry! The school’s walls are standing strong and the mobs outside have been dispersed.” Taka reassured them as he waved his hands dismissively.

“Wait, they’re gone? Are we finally safe?” Makoto asked.

His optimism truly knew no bounds.

* * *

“I don’t even know how long it’s been now, and he still hasn’t moved a muscle.” Chihiro explained to his classmates with his fear audible in every hitched breath.

The stranger’s complete lack of motion was unsettling, though it was the least of the class’ concerns about him given that, in the few minutes Chihiro had spent in the bathroom, this man had somehow completely dispersed the maddened swarms that had been throwing themselves at the school’s defenses.

“So who the fuck is this guy?” Mondo asked as he walked up to the screen with clenched fists. His confidence waivered the more he looked at the man. “ _What_ the fuck is this guy…”

“Who, indeed.” Celeste parroted the biker and she locked her icy gaze on Mukuro. “Care to explain?”

Mukuro didn’t want any more suspicion on her than there already was, but the more info her classmates had, the better, especially when faced with such an unsightly beast.

She sighed deeply before beginning her explanation. “The only things I know about him- “

“I believe it would be best for me to explain this.” Jin interjected. His expression became somber as he justified his interruption. “For now, your ire should be directed at me. His existence is my failure.”

“It seems to me that you both have more than enough failings to answer for,” Kyoko remarked as she leaned against a wall. “But go ahead and justify yourself.”

Ignoring his daughter’s backhanded comments, Jin began his explanation. “That is none other than Izuru Kamukura. He was the result of the schools attempts to implant talent into the talentless by turning one of the reserve course students into a lab rat.”

“Wait, _that_ Izuru Kamukura? The one who killed the student council?” Sayaka gasped.

“That wasn’t him. The footage you saw was doctored.” Mukuro explained, though she wasn’t entirely sure why upon reflection.

“Wait, so he didn’t kill them? Then who did?” Sayaka asked her as she turned her head quizzically.

“The members of the student council all killed each other.” Mukuro looked downward as painful memories of that day surfaced. “Junko… _And I…_ used them to test the concept of a killing game to see if it would actually work. Izuru requested to be there to observe what would happen.”

“So that son of a bitch just let them kill each other?” Mondo shouted as he pumped his fists together. “That sick fuck, he’s just as bad as the ones who made them do it to begin with!” His indignation faded from him upon seeing Mukuro’s face. “Uhh, no offense.”

“Don’t concern yourself with niceties, she doesn’t have the time, or the right, to take offense.” Byakuya said as he stepped forward to get closer to Mukuro and Jin. “We need details, now. Why is he here? Is this man a friend or a foe?”

Neither of them had an adequate answer to this. Izuru had allied himself with the ultimate despair, but not of any sort of dedication to the ideology or its members. His purpose for showing his face here was anyone’s guess.

“Wait…” Makoto interjected as he scratched his chin in thought. “Jin, you said Izuru had talent implanted into him, right? What talents does he have?”

Jin sighed and put his hands in his pockets. “The steering committee was too conservative with their secrets for me to get any real details about the project, but from what I understand, they aimed to implant the abilities of all previous students of Hope’s Peak into him.”

“So you have no concrete knowledge of his abilities, affiliations, or intents, and you don’t even seem confident in your assertion of his name.” Byakuya listed their shortcomings as he pushed up his glasses. “Can you tell me again why this man seems to have the ultimate soldier quaking in her boots?”

“Wait, Byakuya. I think we can at least guess why he came here.” Makoto interjected with determination shining in his eyes. “Jin said he has every talent, right? So that means there’s nothing stopping him from just breaking in.”

“Your point being?” Byakuya asked.

Kyoko brushed her hair aside with her hand as she continued off of Makoto’s train of thought. “Meaning that if Izuru wanted to kill us, we’d be dead already. He’s waiting for us to let him in, presumably as a means of gaining our trust."

“But we’re not just gonna let this guy in, right?” Leon asked. “I mean, wasn’t he working with Junko and Mukuro this whole time?”

“Remember Kyoko’s words, Leon.” Sakura urged her classmate. “The fact that he is not currently in the building is entirely by his choice. We cannot avoid this problem by hiding from it.”

“Yeah, she’s right!” Aoi exclaimed. “Besides, even if he tries something, we’ve got the ultimate martial artist _and_ the ultimate soldier here. There’s no way he can beat both of them!”

Neither of them said anything in response to these words of encouragement. Sakura could tell at a glance that Izuru could kill her in seconds if he desired, and Mukuro knew from experience that the same assumption applied to her.

“So, are there any objections to opening the door?” Jin asked. The looks on their faces implied there were plenty of objections to go around, but none of them were ever voiced.

“Excellent.” He said, not waiting for a response. “Now, let’s all go down to the first floor to greet our new guest.”

* * *

The class had been given orders by their headmaster to stay behind Sakura and Mukuro once the doors opened, though they lost all confidence in the usefulness of these orders the moment Jin opened the massive vault door at the front of the school and Izuru calmly stepped in. He walked up to the keypad used to control the door, typed in the exact same code Jin had used, and stood motionlessly in front of the class as the door closed behind him.

“Future Foundation, the organization Jin informed you of, will be here in 27 hours and 32 minutes.” Izuru explained once the roaring noise of the door finally ceased. “It will take the despair mobs far longer than that to reassemble themselves. You have nothing to fear.”

“And how exactly do you know so much about the conversations we’ve been having in here?” Byakuya asked, leaning forward in an intimidating manner. It had no effect on Izuru, but such movements were reflexive for him.

“You specified you would wait here for any potential ‘friends’, hence you suspect there are individuals who seek to deliver you to safety, and you would only believe such individuals existed in a world ruled by despair if you had been informed of their existence. The only person who could have told you about Future Foundation in this building is Jin.” Izuru explained with complete certainty in his voice.

Byakuya clenched his fists and gritted his teeth at Izuru’s explanation, clearly displeased with being intellectually shown up. Izuru was unfazed by the heir’s rage as he continued.

“As Makoto and Kyoko said, I have no intention of inflicting harm on any of you. I-”

“Wait, how did you know that part?” Chihiro asked as he fiddled with his skirt.

Izuru glared at him. “I will not explain my deductive reasoning every time it confuses one of you.”

The poor boy instantly capitulated under his gaze, and Mondo stepped in between the two of them. Sakura, in turn, stepped between him and Izuru to prevent a fight from breaking out. When Mondo finished yelling threats and obscenities at Izuru, he continued.

“As I was saying, I have no intention of harming any of you. I simply wish to speak to Mukuro alone.” When he finished, he stood there motionlessly and waited for a response. As if knowing he would effortlessly cut through any arguments against this proposition, the class fell silent.

Mukuro sighed deeply. “Fine, let’s go.” She said as she urged for him to follow her to one of the empty classrooms.

Their walk to the room was uneventful as could be, neither party saying a word. Both of them were quiet by nature, but the silence that fell over the both of them unnerved Mukuro regardless.

“So what is it you’re here for?” Mukuro asked as she closed the door to the room, knowing Izuru would humor no attempts at lightening the mood.

“You.” He responded as if that explained everything.

“I assumed as much. What is it about me that you’re interested in?” She had to keep taking the lead of the conversation or else this wouldn’t go anywhere.

“That is what I am here to find out.” His eyes dilated by the tiniest amount with his next sentence. “This entire scenario is impossible.”

“What? What do you mean?” Mukuro asked, dumbfounded that something in this school had completely subverted the expectations of Izuru Kamukura.

“The fact that the killing game didn’t happen, the fact that the entire class is still alive, and most of all the fact that you were the one who killed Junko. All of these impossibilities are far more exciting than my predictions about the killing game that would have otherwise come to pass.” As he listed his reasons, she realized his line of thinking made a startling amount of sense. She had been surprised by her own actions on the day she killed Junko, so in hindsight it was only natural that others would be as well.

“How did you do it?” He asked, his eyes piercing her own to try and search for the answer before she could say it.

“After I had broken her arm, all- “

Izuru sighed and pinched his nose. “That’s not what I meant. I want to know how you stopped blindly following her orders long enough to do this.”

“I just…” She wrapped her arms around herself as she tried to articulate her reasoning. She already got nervous thinking about all that she’d done three days ago, and Izuru’s soul-drilling gaze did nothing to help calm her down. “I just couldn’t do it anymore.”

“I know, but what changed? What was it that pushed you to do this?” As he asked, Izuru reached for something in his back pocket.

“Earlier that morning, Makoto and I confessed our feelings for one another.” She said as butterflies flew around in her stomach at the thought of the event.

“So it was love?” Izuru asked as he clenched his fist.

“You were probably hoping for a more interesting answer, but yes, love made me do it.” This conversation had been useful to Mukuro by helping her spell out her emotions and beliefs, but it definitely wasn’t worth being in the same room as Izuru.

“No, that answer was… helpful.” Izuru said after staring at his clenched fist in silent contemplation. He looked back up to Mukuro. “Now on to more important matters. Future foundation will surely have you killed, and I aim to prevent this.”

His statement was unsurprising, but the fact that he had a vested interest in keeping her alive confused her.

“Like I said, this entire scenario is impossible, all thanks to you. I want to see what would happen should you live beyond the immediate future.” Izuru answered her question before she could even ask it.

“So you’re going to help us?” Mukuro asked, knowing Izuru would not allow things to be so simple.

“No more than I am right now.” He responded. “I allow you to live into the future solely because you are an outlier in my predictions. If I were to guide you to success, I would know exactly what was going to happen. That would be far too boring.”

“It’s not like I can make you do anything you don’t want.” She sighed her answer out. Izuru's logic was strange to the point that Mukuro couldn't help but question his motives, but the lab rat retook control of the conversation before she could dwell on this for too long.

“However, I will interfere one more time to ensure that you will not be immediately executed by Future Foundation once we arrive at their headquarters.”

Mukuro didn’t like how any of this sounded. “What do you mean, ‘we’?”

“I will allow myself to be detained alongside you. They won’t kill me as Tengan values me too much. You, however, are far more expendable.”

“And how do you suggest I change that?” Mukuro inquired as she grew increasingly frustrated with Izuru’s condescending tone.

“You will need to have information they need that will also allow your talents to be used. The hostages in Towa city will be optimal for this role.” Izuru told her. “As you may have guessed, the missing loved ones that your classmates have told you about were abducted by the ultimate despair. They’re being held in Towa city, the same place that manufactured the vast majority of the Monokuma robots.”

“So all I would have to do is suggest we occupy the city to rescue the hostages and shut down the production of Monokumas, right?” She asked as tactics that could be used to incapacitate the robots flew through her mind.

No response from Izuru.

“Did I say something wrong?”

“I said I would not help you any more than telling you what you would need to know to survive the immediate future. If you think you know what to do, do it. I will only observe.” He said as he twirled something between his fingers.

“Of course.” She sighed. Affirmation from the ultimate hope or no, she knew that facing an army of the ursine droids would require her to have an army of her own. She came up with ways to convince this Future Foundation of the validity of her intel as she left the room.

Izuru stayed behind and sat on the floor of the classroom, completely motionless save for the opening of his palm to stare the hairpin he’d taken from Chiaki’s corpse. For the first time in a very long time, something approximating human emotion flowed through him as he realized he was far more similar to Mukuro than he had initially predicted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Izuru had gotta be the worst roomate ever that guy definitely doesnt clean up after himself
> 
> anyways what do yall think of this chapter?


	5. Halls of Asgard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything goes exactly as Izuru predicted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I took so long to update D: Halo 3 came out on pc recently and that game has eaten my brain  
> anyways enjoy :D

Future Foundation arrived at Hope’s Peak just as Izuru had predicted, right down to the number of minutes. However, Izuru’s prediction had meant little to the class due to their wariness around him, resulting in them being caught off guard by his words coming to pass. It took no small amount of time for Mukuro and Chihiro, the only ones who had been monitoring the cameras on the outside, to round up everyone and prepare them to be extracted.

The din of the opening of the titanic door at the entrance added to the anxiety Mukuro was feeling at the thought of what would be done to her once they left the academy. Izuru had reassured her that she would just need to use what he’d told her about Towa city in order to ensure her survival, but she began to doubt she would even make it out the front door when she saw that the team tasked with extracting them was lead by none other than Juzo Sakakura.

He didn’t bother closing the door behind him as more and more soldiers poured into the building from behind him, followed by Kyosuke at the rear. A fire lit in Juzo’s eyes as they locked on to Mukuro, and he wordlessly gestured for two of his men to restrain her. As the put her hands in to a remarkably heavy set of cuffs, Kyosuke stepped forward to address the rest of the students.

“There is no need to fear. We are-“

“Future Foundation, yes, I already told them.” Izuru remarked as he stepped out of the shadows and allowed himself to be seen. His sudden remark stunned the whole room into silence.

“You- You’re…” The soldiers could scarcely believe what they were seeing.

“Izuru Kamukura, yes.”

He walked up to the soldier closest to him and held his hands out with his wrists limp. “I could easily escape whatever you use to keep me captive. However, you would be marginally more comfortable with detaining me should you choose to restrain me.”

“And why shouldn’t we just end your miserable existence?” Juzo demanded as he walked towards the ultimate hope and cracked his knuckles.

“Assuming you were capable of such a thing, Tengan would never allow it.” Izuru explained, his voice unwavering.

This caused both Juzo and Kyosuke to stop in their tracks. Juzo looked to his leader with uncertainty, who shook his head slowly in response. Juzo relented, backing away from Izuru as the men detained him.

“Now it’s your turn.” Juzo proclaimed as he sauntered towards Mukuro.

“I ha-“

Juzo’s fist slamming into her gut knocked the air from her lungs and marked the end of any attempt at rational discussion with him. The only thing about this that surprised Mukuro was that Kyosuke made no attempt at stopping, or even reprimanding, his companion. She hardly even registered the pain of the right hook that collided with her jaw amid trying to catch her breath from her previous blow. However, she did notice that he didn’t follow that blow with another. She opened her eyes and could scarcely believe what she was seeing.

“Get away from her!”

Dread filled Mukuro’s heart as she saw Makoto pull on Juzo’s shoulder and punch him in the face. His blow connected, but the only effect it had was the boxer’s cheek caving slightly. He didn’t even flinch as he locked eyes with Makoto and grinned maliciously.

Makoto didn’t have time to realize what a poor decision he’d made before Juzo punched him in the stomach, forcing him on his knees and leaving him gasping for air. Juzo turned Makoto over onto his back with his boot and placed it on top of his face, grinding it into his features and ignoring his cries of pain.

Mukuro didn’t hear whatever unwarranted insults Juzo was throwing at her boyfriend.

Hands still in cuffs, she drew her combat knife from its holster on her waist.

She charged forward, shrugging off the grip of the men behind her with strength she didn’t know she had.

Kyosuke’s blade came not even an inch away from her throat, and she stopped dead in her tracks.

“Stand down, Juzo.” Kyosuke ordered without breaking eye contact with Mukuro. “He’s learned his lesson.”

A moment of silence followed, then Juzo complied after kicking Makoto across the floor, right at the feet of some of the soldiers in his command. They placed Makoto in handcuffs without even needing to be ordered.

“Let him go!” Sayaka shouted as she motioned her way to the front of the crowd of her classmates that had gathered around the scene.

“He assaulted a division leader of Future Foundation with the intent of protecting a member of the Ultimate Despair.” Kyosuke calmly explained as the soldiers hoisted Makoto on to his feet, his face beginning to swell from Juzo’s treatment. “Just because we came to rescue you doesn’t mean we have to listen to your concerns.”

Juzo glanced toward Izuru and continued off his companion’s train of thought. “Speaking of arresting people, you’ll all be held in custody for housing a second member of the Ultimate Despair until you can tell me which one of you let that _thing_ in here.”

“That was also Makoto’s idea.”

Celeste’s words cut through the tension in the air like a finely honed blade, causing her classmates to stare at her in shock.

“What?” She asked as she put her hands under her chin and smiled. “Am I wrong?”

Technically speaking, Celeste was telling the truth. However, the ultimate gambler made a safe bet by throwing him under the bus rather than admitting that they had all agreed to allow Izuru in. If any of her classmates tried to explain the whole story, it would be all of their necks on the line.

“Why am I not surprised?” Kyosuke quipped as he turned towards the exit. “Anyone else want to try their luck?”

After seeing what Juzo had done to Makoto, no one else had the courage to stand up for Mukuro.

“Then we’re leaving. Makoto, Izuru, and Mukuro will be flying separately from the rest of you.”

Just like that, the students of class 78 graduated from Hope’s Peak, uncertain if they would ever return.

* * *

Future Foundation’s primary base of operations was a surprisingly menacing structure, given its purpose. Its peak pierced the heavens and was, at any moment, coated in the artificial light of spotlights watching for any potential aerial assailants. The building itself was an uncanny mix of brutalism and modernism in its architectural style with large windows contrasting with barbed fences and blocks of concrete. Its more practical defensive structures combined with the constant presence of armed guards, cameras, and all other manner of security devices made the entrance and halls of the building feel more like a prison than the place where the world’s hope would be reborn.

Mukuro supposed the aesthetic of a prison went well with the magnetic cuffs that encased her after her attempt on Juzo’s life. At least Makoto had the luxury of being restrained with regular handcuffs. The glorified blocks of steel around Mukuro’s arms made it difficult to just keep her hands at chest level the way Juzo wanted her to. She glanced over at Izuru and noticed he was wearing the same ridiculous magnetic cuffs, though they didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest.

Once they reached the holding cells on the lower levels, the warden wearing an absurd amount of combat gear guided them to their respective cells. Makoto was put in plain cell with irons bars facing the halls, while Mukuro was forcefully led into a padded room locked behind a large metal door. She didn’t have the opportunity to see where Izuru went, but she could only guess what measures they would take in their futile attempt to hold him.

The door slammed behind her as she sat down on the bed at the far end of the room. She lost track of time as she laid down and drifted in and out of consciousness. Mental fatigue began to take its toll on Mukuro as she realized she had simply traded one collar for another. This new collar, while still looser than the one Junko had chained to her, was far too tight for her liking. The fact that Future Foundation was now threatening Makoto alongside her made her furious. After all, she had murdered her own sister to protect him, and now he was in danger once more after they had been stabbed in the back by one of their own classmates.

Her righteous indignation was brought to a halt by the sound of the door to her cell creaking open. The sound of metal against metal was grating to Mukuro, but it didn’t seem to bother the warden in the slightest.

“Sit up.” She barked at her. “You have a visitor.”

“Who is it?” Mukuro asked, hoping to see a classmate again but knowing this was most likely the beginning of an interrogation.

“Our counterintelligence pro wanted to see you in person for some reason.” The warden said as she shrugged her shoulders. “Don’t worry, that lady wouldn’t hurt a fly.”

“Now that’s not entirely true.” Said a voice from behind the warden that Mukuro absolutely did not want to hear right now. “After all, it’s my job as a housekeeper to get rid of pests, isn’t it?”

Chisa calmly stepped into the room and she put on a smile that only Mukuro could see was dripping with malice.

“Sorry to do this, but you have to leave now.” Chisa said to the warden as she made a shooing motion with her hands.

“There’s no way I can leave you here! She’s the-“

“Disobeying a direct order from a superior is punishable by dishonorable discharge.” Chisa reminded the warden, her features still locked into a porcelain grin. The warden was silent for a moment before wordlessly shuffling out of the cell and closing the door behind her.

“It’s been too long, wouldn’t you say?” Chisa remarked as spirals began to form in her eyes.

For the first time in Mukuro’s life, she was frozen in place out of fear. She was incapacitated with the restraints Juzo had put on her and locked in a room with a member of ultimate despair whose motives for visiting she could only guess at.

“There’s no need to be so scared.” Chisa reassured her. “Kyosuke will be here in just a few minutes, so it’s not like I could get away with killing you even if I wanted to!”

“So you want to keep me alive?” Mukuro asked, trying to do some interrogating of her own.

Chisa’s shrill laugh in response to her question was far more grating on her ears than any of the deafening noises she had ever heard on the battlefield.

“Of course I want you dead, silly!” She explained as she leaned in closer until she was inches from Mukuro’s face.

“But I’m not like you.” Chisa’s bright smile and cheery tone faded and were replaced by a cold, subtle anger. “I don’t just kill things that get in the way of my love. I need you alive for now so that Kyosuke’s despair dwarfs even Junko herself.”

“I’m sorry for what I did to you and Chiaki, I really am.” Mukuro knew that attempting to reason with the brainwashed madwoman in front of her was meaningless, but alternatives eluded her.

“You don’t have to apologize!” Chisa exclaimed as she pat Mukuro on the head and went back to her phony smile. “It’s not like I’m even capable of missing who I used to be.”

“So you’re not here for revenge then?” Mukuro was fairly certain Chisa wouldn’t hurt her, but it never hurt to be sure.

“Weren’t you listening to a thing I said?” Chisa chastised her as she waved her finger in front of Mukuro with a pouty look on her face. “I don’t hold that stuff against you, honest! Even if I thought using the video you used on me was a good idea, I gave Tengan my only copy of it.” She turned away from Mukuro as she continued.

“Besides, I won’t give you the satisfaction of enjoying what I’m going to do to you and your precious Makoto.”

“What did you do to him!?” Mukuro demanded, mustering up a level of indignity she didn’t know she still had in her after the events of today.

“Oh, he’s fine for now. I promise.” Chisa answered without looking back. “I convinced Juzo to let him go, seeing as he didn’t really do anything wrong.”

“So then what do you want from me? Why are you even here?” Mukuro asked as she realized Chisa had nothing to gain from risking exposure like this.

Chisa brought her finger to her chin in thought before explaining herself. “No real reason. I just wanted to let you know I’ll be here every step of the way to ensure killing your own sister in cold blood was all for nothing!”

A loud buzzer rang through the room, nipping Mukuro’s response to Chisa’s taunts in the bud.

“Aren’t the doorbells in these rooms lovely?” Chisa remarked. “Anyways, that’s my cue to get out of here. Kyosuke wanted to play the bad cop for our ‘good cop, bad cop’ bit.” She giggled to herself at the irony of Kyosuke’s plan before walking toward the door.

“You can tell him about me if you want, but that’s more likely to get you killed than me.” Chisa wrapped her arms around herself as she continued. “I can see it now! My poor little Kyosuke running himself ragged trying to find a cure for my despair!” Chisa’s last words were by far her most unsettling. She opened the door for Kyosuke and the spirals faded from her eyes.

“Just please, don’t hurt her!” Chisa begged Kyosuke without a trace of the woman she was just a moment ago in her voice.

“The plan’s been changed.” Kyosuke said as he moved toward Mukuro. “You’re being put on trial.”

“What for?” Mukuro asked as she wondered which of her many crimes was at fault for this.

“The murder of Junko Enoshima.”

* * *

“I believe the actions of the other members of Ultimate Despair speak for themselves.” Mukuro explained to the audience of Future Foundation’s leaders that had gathered at the round table she had been forced to sit at. She turned around to face her classmates, all of whom, save Makoto and Sakura, failed to return her gaze. Mukuro couldn’t tell whether or not Kyoko staring her down like a predator eyeing its prey qualified as eye contact, but she didn’t really have time to care.

“Do they really though?” Chisa asked. “The only thing we know for sure is that something about the broadcast upset them. There’s no proof that Junko was the mastermind!”

Mukuro turned to Juzo, who avoided eye contact with her.

“Objection!” Hifumi shouted from the back of the room as he pushed his glasses up. “If you recall-“

“Yes. we do, in fact, recall your testimony.” Gozu calmly explained, causing a dejected Hifumi to shrink back into his seat. “However, you said you have been unable to find this sketchbook that Junko signed, yes?”

“So then we can’t use it as evidence! It may as well not exist.” Ruruka finished Gozu’s point as she fed Sonosuke another piece of candy. “Besides, it didn’t go missing until you all got here. Mukuro totally just destroyed what she knew was evidence against her.”

Mukuro knew that if the head of counterintelligence continued to run rampant like this, Future Foundation was doomed. However, she was painfully aware there was nothing she could do about it for the time being.

“And why would she do that?” Makoto asked as he walked up to the roundtable, his face covered in scabs and bandages. Class 78 was given explicit instructions not to approach the round table, but this didn’t stop Makoto from proving once again that he was the only one who trusted Mukuro unconditionally. The security guards initially tried to pull him back, but a wave of Tengan’s hand made them stand down.

“Hm? What’dya mean why?” Kizakura asked as he got his feet off the table. “She’s a member of Ultimate Despair, right? Of course she’s gonna cover her tracks to get in here.”

“Then why would she kill Junko?” Makoto inquired. “If Mukuro was the mastermind, she had no reason to ruin her own killing game like this! The only reason she would have to kill Junko is to save everyone else!”

None of the members of Future Foundation’s board of directors responded, though Tengan began to smile softly.

“The young boy is right, his hope leads him true.” Tengan remarked. “Either both of the sisters are members of the Ultimate Despair and Mukuro has averted a tragedy, or neither of them are, and this murder means nothing. The latter cannot be true, given Izuru’s interest in her and the other members poor reactions to the broadcast.”

The logic was irrefutable. No one could argue against Mukuro’s testimony now that the leader of Future Foundation had given it his support.

“There’s something I need to confirm while we’re all in the same room.” It was Kyoko’s turn to step up to the table against the rules. “Which one of you was the first to suggest that Mukuro was a member of Ultimate Despair?”

“Oh, that was Juzo.” Chisa responded without a second thought as Juzo wiped sweat from his brow.

“Why do you need to know this?” Gozu asked.

“Just trying to confirm a hunch.” Kyoko responded. “But it seems I was wrong.” She glared at Juzo for a moment before returning to her seat in the back of the room.

“So now that the finger pointing is out of the way,” Kyosuke began as he stood up. ”We still don’t have a reason to do anything other than kill Mukuro. This whole trial has proven her guilty of countless crimes.”

“I have information that you need.” Mukuro’s attempt to make sure things went to Izuru’s plan was as subtle as a sledgehammer, but time was of the essence.

“Of course you do.” Juzo remarked as his confidence returned to him. “Just spit it out so we can decide whether or not its worth sparing your life.”

Before continuing, Mukuro turned to her classmates. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you all had someone close to you go missing just before we turned Hope’s Peak into a shelter, correct?”

They looked at her in stunned silence, though Mukuro couldn’t help but be surprised that their loved ones going missing hadn’t sparked conversation between them. Whatever the reason for their silence on the subject, this was apparently the first time any of them had learned they weren’t the only ones to experience this.

Regardless, this meant she now had her entire class backing her for what she was about to propose next.

“I know where they’re being held. Junko and I were planning on using them as motives for the killing game.” She turned back to the leaders of Future Foundation.

“With Future Foundation’s help, we should be able to rescue them and stop any further production of Monokuma robots.”

The division leaders froze up once the Monokuma bots were mentioned. Hushed murmurs were exchanged between them for a moment.

Kizakura poured himself another drink and looked back up Mukuro. “The big guy over there’s not gonna admit it, but those smirking little robotic shits have been giving 6th division a run for their money.” He took a sip from his flask and began addressing the other leaders of Future Foundation. “We gotta at least hear this out. If someone this important to Ultimate Despair really is a turncoat then she’s probably not lying.”

He glanced back at Mukuro, his cocky smirk unmoving.

“Probably.”

“So tell us your plan.” Juzo ordered, his urgency indicating that Kizakura was correct in his statement about 6th division being pushed to the breaking point.

“The Monokuma robots and the hostages are both in Towa City, a technolo-“

“We know all about Towa city, I promise.” Sonosuke chimed in, his voice much more subdued than his words.

“He’s right.” Chisa remarked as she sighed. “We’ve been trying to get them to let our agents in since the Tragedy began, but they won’t let anyone from Future Foundation in their borders. I guess hearing that they cooperated with the Ultimate Despair isn’t that surprising.”

“Their ‘borders’? Don’t you whelps have the backing of all the world’s governments?” Byakuya retorted. Politics and power struggles were his domain, after all.

“It’s not that simple.” Gozu explained. “The city hasn’t experienced even a fraction of the calamity that the tragedy brought to the rest of the world. The Interior Ministry’s weakening authority has allowed them to effectively declare independence.”

“Besides, if what Mukuro is saying is true, then they have an army of evil robots! How scary…” “Usami” added as Miaya stared at her keyboard, her eyes wide in fear.

“Oh! I know!” Chisa exclaimed as she held one finger up. “All we have to do is send in a small task force to get the hostages out without being seen, then that force can find out where the Monokumas are coming from.”

If Chisa wanted it, it couldn’t be a good thing. Mukuro had to retake control of the conversation.

“If something went wrong with that operation, this task force would be killed, and Towa would tighten security even further.” Mukuro explained.

As she’d learned while in Fenrir, most military operations could be categorized as requiring either a speartip or a sledgehammer. The speartip was used to refer to operations involving precision strikes at high value targets with little in the way of collateral damage, though these operations required highly skilled soldiers. Chisa suggesting a speartip maneuver meant that she wanted Mukuro, who was logically the most skilled soldier in this building, to be at the head of this mission. Mukuro would surely be walking into a trap by agreeing to this.

The sledgehammer was the term used for operations which were the opposite of the speartip, forgoing subtlety and skill in favor of a more thorough destruction of the target using much of one’s own forces. These operations often had a larger casualty count but were guaranteed to accomplish the objective. While Mukuro didn’t like the idea of putting so many of a new ally’s forces at risk by suggesting a sledgehammer operation, avoiding falling into the ultimate despair’s trap would undoubtably be worth their sacrifice.

“Therefore, we need to completely occupy the city in order to ensure the threat within is completely eradicated.”

“We can’t just put so many of our troops at risk-“

“She’s right.”

Mukuro hadn’t expected Kyosuke of all people to be the one to back her in this plan.

“With a force as small as you’re suggesting, there’s no way they could succeed, even if Mukuro herself were put in charge of it.” Kyosuke explained with a calm certainty, though Mukuro could see there was something in his eyes once she said the word “eradicate”. “Juzo will lead as many troops for 6th division as he can spare in occupying the city while searching for those hostages.” He turned to face class 78. “Just remember that they’re a secondary objective in this mission. Preventing Ultimate Despair from having access to such high-tech weaponry is our first and foremost reason for agreeing to this.”

“This still presents this issue of civilian cooporation.” Gozu pointed out. “We can’t just barge in and demand that they tell us where all of their things are.”

“Which is why we need a new leader for 14th division.” Tengan chimed in. “With all due respect, Kyosuke, I told you neglecting this organization’s public image would negatively impact us eventually.”

“So who are you gonna saddle with that curse?” Kizakura asked as he laughed at the thought, either unable or unwilling to read the room.

“I think the answer to that is obvious.” Tengan responded. “Jin was an admirable headmaster, despite the events of the 78th year of Hope’s Peak.”

“So he’ll make sure the plebs don’t get in our way while we do our jobs, right?” Juzo asked.

“Yes.” Kyosuke answered, finally deciding to listen to Tengan’s advice. “I believe that means this meeting can be adjourned after the schoolkids are given their assignments. I’ll leave Tengan in charge of that.”

He turned to look at Mukuro, his eyes cold and emotionless.

“I need to speak to her alone for a moment.”

Two guards hoisted Mukuro up by her shoulders as she began to stand up on her own. They led her out of the room as Kyosuke followed behind them and Tengan got up to address the class.

Once she had been led out of earshot of the trial room, Kyosuke spoke up.

“I’ll kill you one day, you know.”

Mukuro added him to the incredibly long list of people who promised her that at some point.

“Then why did you agree to my idea?” She asked. Mukuro had enough of every member of Future Foundation holding a personal vendetta against her.

“Because you were right to suggest the occupation.” He clenched his fist and looked at the floor. “I honestly can’t tell what Chisa was thinking.”

He was alone in his confusion and he didn’t even know it. Mukuro sighed as he realized Kyosuke wanted to say more but didn’t know how to.

“So what is it you want to talk to me about?”

“In truth, I admire your dedication.” Kyosuke explained as if Mukuro knew what he was talking about. “The dedication to hope that you must have held in your heart as you killed your own sister is something I can only dream of having.”

“I’m not sure if you heard the whole story…” Mukuro responded. She wasn’t sure what Kyosuke was volunteering her for but sounded just as dangerous as whatever Chisa had planned for her.

“Regardless, you’ve demonstrated that there’s nothing you won’t do. Even if you must answer for your crimes one day, you will be a useful tool until then. I’ll make sure Juzo doesn’t rough up you or your classmates anymore, though I can’t promise you’ll get an assignment like your classmates did.”

At least Izuru was right about that intel saving her from execution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow izuru thanks for giving everyone spoilers like that u fuckin prick  
> anyways how was the new chapter?


	6. Hólmganga

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Future Foundation prepares for war, tensions flare between Mukuro and Juzo. Sakura offers an unconventional solution.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW for some mentions of homophobia in this chapter. not exactly huge but its there.

Future Foundation’s headquarters made good use of its abundance of space for those who were allowed to grace its seemingly never ending halls. In addition to the labyrinthian complexes of military equipment storage, server farms, and offices for all manner of bureaucratic work, there were accommodations for daily life of every sort. Its swimming pools, libraries, arcades and all other manner of recreational facilities combined with the hydroponic farms growing just about every staple crop in history meant that the facility could be converted into a shelter akin to Hope’s Peak with relative ease.

While Juzo had always been rather infamous for ignoring most of these luxuries in favor of the singular gym in the building with a boxing ring, recent events caused him to sequester himself in the ring for hours on end. Kyosuke personally vouching for Mukuro to be kept alive weighed heavily against his desire for revenge for what she and her sister did to him and these two ideals clashed with tempestuous fury in his mind. He couldn’t tell whether or not keeping her alive was in anyone’s best interest, let alone his. He couldn’t tell whether or not Kyosuke knew what he was doing.

Least of all though, he couldn’t tell whether or not he liked no longer being alone in the ring.

“You realize sparring isn’t actually a common bonding exercise, right?”

Juzo’s new subordinate had some unconventional methods, but he was ultimately grateful for the chance to let off some steam.

“I realize there are more effective ways to learn about others,” Sakura responded as she stepped away to the opposite end of the ring. “However, when Kyoko informed me that you were upset by the presence of Mukuro, I assumed you would be grateful for this opportunity to vent your frustrations.”

“Don’t try to get in between me and her.” Juzo seethed.

“Kyosuke has already ordered you not to kill her, has he not?” Sakura asked.

Juzo charged forward upon hearing this reminder of his predicament, right hook at the ready. Sakura attempted to dodge, but Juzo’s fist still connected with her shoulder and caused her to be thrown off balance. That woman was an indomitable tower of muscle, but he was still the ultimate boxer. She staggered and stepped back, giving the boxer the briefest of moments to reflect on his many conflicting thoughts. As Juzo realized he still couldn’t quite work out how he felt about Kyosuke vouching for Mukuro, Sakura’s fist hit his side and slammed him into the far end of the ring. He slumped over and Sakura offered her hand to help him up.

“I cannot hope to understand what passed between the two of you during Mukuro’s time in Ultimate Despair,” Sakura explained as she hoisted him on to his feet.

“You’re right,” Juzo interjected with venom in every word. “So don’t bother.”

Sakura continued, unhindered by Juzo’s biting retort. “But it is all too obvious that the hate you carry in your heart is eating you alive. If Kyosuke allows Mukuro to come with us to Towa city, allowing your grudge to get in the way on the battlefield will surely end all of our lives.”

“Kyosuke would never do that!” Juzo shouted right in Sakura’s face.

“Are you sure?”

Both of the martial artists flinched at Kyoko’s words as she stepped out of the shadows.

“Like Sakura said, Kyosuke directly ordered you to keep her alive. That can only mean he plans to put her talents to good use.” Kyoko explained as she brushed her hair out from behind her ear with her hand. “After all, it’s not like either of you two care about her safety.”

“And why should we? She was working with the Ultimate Despair!” Juzo roared as he made his way towards the detective, who remained unflinching in his presence.

“ _Was_ working with them.” Kyoko corrected him. “And that’s something I wanted to ask you about. Why were you so certain so certain she was a member of the Ultimate Despair? The rest of your colleagues claim you were the one who introduced the idea to them.”

“That bitch… _Humiliated_ me.” He hissed through gritted teeth.

“So you want revenge? Against which one of them? And what for?” Kyoko asked, unaware of the weight that both sisters held in Juzo’s life.

The boxer froze up, though the whiteness of his knuckles from how hard he was clenching his fists indicated his was just about ready to give Kyoko a thorough demonstration of his talent. He was unsure how to answer the question but was ready to beat Kyoko into a bloody pulp just for asking it. Sakura putting her hand on her new commanding officer’s shoulder put an end to these thoughts.

“Kyoko, do not press him further.” Sakura urged her former classmate. “This is not a matter we can help with.”

“And what do you suggest we do?” Kyoko asked as if the man she was talking about wasn’t in the room. “These temper tantrums can hardly be contained around the two of us, what do you think he’s going to do when Mukuro of all people is actually going to have to depend on him?”

“Like I said, this matter is between the two of them.” The martial artist responded, continuing not to acknowledge that Juzo was right next to her. “Our only hope is that they can reconcile somehow.”

“I think I already know how you want us to do that.” Juzo grumbled, more so to remind the girls that he was there rather than an actual attempt at joining the conversation.

Then again, this would be the perfect opportunity to get that revenge he wanted so badly.

“Do not mistake my intentions, sir.” Sakura elaborated as she saw the look in her superior’s eyes. “A match between you two would be held for the purpose of clearing animosity, nothing more.” The martial artist glared at him, and he had to suppress the urge to flinch. “You are my superior as of now, but Mukuro is still a trusted friend of mine. I will not allow undue harm to come to her.”

“In that case, I’ll be watching this bout as well.” Kyoko added with a tone of voice that brokered no room for argument. “It would probably be easier than trying to interrogate either of you. Let me know when this grudge match is about to start.” She walked out of the room without so much as a goodbye.

The tension in the air deflated for a moment, and Juzo could not help but voice his curiosity. “Does she always enter rooms unannounced?”

Sakura chuckled as an uncharacteristic mirth graced her features. “You will grow accustomed to it in time, sir.”

* * *

“Wait, Mondo’s going to be doing _what_?” Mukuro asked as she brought her hand to her mouth to stifle a laugh. Every time she moved like that, it caused the warden in the room with her to jerk up, but Mukuro had learned to ignore her. She was just happy to be in the same room as Makoto again.

“Yeah, we were all surprised, too.” Makoto explained, adjusting himself in a vain attempt to get more comfortable in the pathetic little folding chair Mukuro had been provided in her cell to accommodate visitors. The only people who frequently visited her were Makoto and Chisa, though the latter rarely stayed long enough to warrant sitting down. He eventually gave up and just sat next to where Mukuro was sitting on her bed.

“Everyone was pretty sure he was gonna get put in 6th division with Sakura and Juzo, but that guy with the bull mask was really insistent that 12th division get Mondo instead. So I guess Mondo of all people is gonna be in charge of building highways now.” Makoto giggled as he continued. “You should have seen his reaction! He was all like ‘lemme bash some fuckin skulls together!’.”

A tear rolled down Mukuro’s cheek as she burst into laughter at Makoto’s imitation of the one of the world’s most dangerous biker gang leaders.

“Was I really that funny?” Makoto asked sheepishly.

“It’s just…” Mukuro took a moment to collect herself before continuing. “I just don’t think I’ve ever heard you use swear words before.”

“Hey, I can say ‘fuck’!” Makoto insisted as he puffed his chest out in a way that gave no indication he knew that it was the most adorable thing Mukuro had ever seen. She laughed some more and wrapped her arm around Makoto to bring his head closer to her chest, causing his embarrassed blushing to grow more severe. Despite her intimidating demeanor, Mukuro was nowhere near as much of a “carnivore” (as her late sister would have put it) as said demeanor would imply.

“Nope, sorry. Not allowed.” Mukuro stated as she flicked him on the forehead.

However, something about Makoto made it impossible not to tease him every now and then.

Once their laughter died down, they sat there motionless for a short while. This week had been the most chaotic one of either of their lives, and they were both grateful to just have each other. Mukuro rested her cheek on top of Makoto’s head and sighed deeply. While the road ahead of them was uncertain at best, Mukuro and Makoto both found comfort in knowing they would be walking it together.

“So what about everyone else?” Mukuro asked, her head still on top of Makoto’s.

“Well, Kyoko got assigned to 5th division, which I guess makes sense. That’s her talent and all that.”

For an instant, an image of Kyoko learning too much about her new commander’s true nature and being punished for it crossed Mukuro’s mind, but that was a problem she would simply have to solve later. Makoto continued when he noticed Mukuro didn’t respond.

“Yasuhiro and Celeste both got assigned to 3rd division.”

“Is that really how their talents work?” Mukuro asked, struggling to picture either of those two as human resource workers.

“Yeah, I’m not really sure about that choice either, but Kizakura’s a smart guy, I’m sure he knows what he’s doing.” Makoto paused and then chuckled nervously. “I mean, I’m _pretty_ sure, at least…”

“Anyways, Chihiro’s been assigned to 7th division. Miaya…” Makoto scratched his chin in contemplation for a moment before continuing. “Wait, are we actually supposed to call her Usami?”

“Please don’t.” Mukuro urged him as she considered the irony of the ultimate therapist having such severe social anxiety that she needed to use the persona of a cartoon rabbit to speak.

“Well, anyways, Miaya really wanted Chihiro in particular, but wouldn’t say why. The moment anyone tried asking her about it, her lips were sealed.” He finished explaining

Mukuro chuckled. “Aren’t they always?”

“You know what I mean!”

“So what about the others?” Sometimes Mukuro liked to see Makoto get flustered, but there was also fun to be had in not letting him focus on his embarrassments.

“Uhm, Byakuya and Taka both got assigned to 2nd division. Now Byakuya keeps complaining about being a glorified accountant while Taka lectures him about the virtues of their jobs.” Makoto remarked with a sigh, having clearly been exposed to this behavior before.

“If anyone can keep those two in line, though, it’s Kyosuke.” Mukuro responded. She believed this whole-heartedly given his ability to reign in the worst of Juzo’s tendencies.

However, Mukuro knew better than most that this was not solely due to Kyosuke’s leadership skills.

“Yeah, I’d believe that.” Makoto agreed. “That guy is _really_ scary. Seriously, I thought he was a student council president or something, why does he need swords?”

“Maybe he just thinks it looks cool?” Mukuro wouldn’t put it past him.

“That’s certainly what Hifumi seems to think.” Makoto added. “I guess that’s why he was upset that he and Touko both got put in 10th division.”

“Ryota is gonna have his hands full keeping them from each other’s throats.” The arguments that those two had over whether or not manga could be considered a form of art would rage on for hours, and often required the likes of Sakura or Mukuro to break up once things (inevitably) got physical.

“Uhm... Who else is there…” Makoto thought out loud. “Oh! Aoi was assigned to 13th division, but she seemed pretty bummed that she wasn’t gonna be working with Sakura.”

“Well, her job involves being a first responder, right?” Mukuro asked. “I’m sure she’ll be working with the military arm of Future Foundation every now and then.”

“That’s what Sakura said, but it didn’t seem to satisfy her.” Makoto remarked as he slumped his shoulders.

“So what about you?” Mukuro asked, anxious to hear what awaited him and if she could help somehow.

“Oh, right. Sayaka, Leon, and I are all assigned to 14th division.” Makoto responded without missing a beat.

“Wait, how did you end up in 14th?” Mukuro asked. Sayaka and Leon were natural choices for a public relations department, given their charismatic nature and status as celebrities. However, while Makoto would be at least competent at whatever Future Foundation assigned him to thanks to his talent, it was strange to see such a timid man be put in such a public role.

“Well, I don’t know how this is gonna sound,” Makoto explained as his voice began to show signs of nervousness. “But Kizakura just took one look at me and said ‘yeah, that’s a face you can’t say no to’.”

Mukuro burst into laughter before planting a kiss on his cheek. “He’s right, you know.” She added in between stifled giggles.

As silence fell between the two of them, Mukuro realized she couldn’t remember the last time she’d laughed this much in a single conversation. She’d occasionally enjoyed herself with Aoi or even Celeste, but to just truly not put on her usual mask of stoicism was a brand new experience for her. The last time she remembered laughing at a joke unhindered was when she and Junko were children, though she had taunted her big sister for weeks on end afterwards for the way she laughed. Since then, she pretended to simply not have a sense of humor in the hopes of avoiding embarrassment. As Mukuro stared at her lap and emotions of all kinds swelled inside her at the thought of her sister, she wondered whether or not she’d tell Makoto that story someday.

“Hey, Mukuro?” Makoto asked with a seriousness in his voice that she hadn’t heard in a very long time.

“Yes?”

“I know there’s a lot going on right now, and I know nobody trusts you.” He stopped talking and began staring down in a similar manner to Mukuro. When he finally found what he wanted to say, he turned to face Mukuro, who met his gaze.

“But, I hope you know you did the right thing.” He took her hands into his, his hope shining brighter than ever.

Her mind went blank at these words. After what felt like an eternity, she voiced her response.

“I know.”

She knew better than anyone else that she made the right choice. That didn’t make it any easier.

A buzzer rang loud and harsh through the room and marked an end to their free time together. Makoto stood up and began stretching his back but recoiled slightly when he saw that Juzo was the one who was entering the room. She knew better than to get up to protect Makoto, as any sudden movements would earn the ire of both the warden and her new visitor, but that didn’t make the prospect any less tempting. Mukuro resigned herself to glaring daggers at him as he sauntered into the room. Juzo returned the sentiment with a fire in his eyes that suggested this visit would end poorly for her. Her fears were somewhat assuaged when another person followed right behind her.

“Sakura!?” Makoto gasped, the relief in his voice almost tangible. “Oh right, you guys work together now…” He remarked as he scratched his cheek.

“Now get out.” Juzo growled at him as he cocked his chin up to exaggerate the height difference between them.

“Wait, w-why?” Makoto asked as his stance changed. His hands were shaking as he remembered the last time he attempted to protect Mukuro from him, yet he didn’t move an inch.

“There is no need to fear.” Sakura comforted him. “I will be with them both to ensure this match is fair and without incident.”

“Wait, sir, you mean to spar with her?” The warden interjected. Juzo turned his head to face her, and she instantly capitulated under his gaze and stepped out of the cell.

“I suggest you follow suite.” He said as he returned to staring Makoto down.

“I can’t just leave her with you!” Makoto shouted as he clenched his fists and sweat dripped down his brow.

“Makoto, we’ll be okay.” Mukuro reassured him. Her confidence surprised everyone, most of all Juzo.

“You really trust him?” Makoto asked as he alternated between looking at the two of them.

“No.” Mukuro responded as he looked up at Sakura. “But I trust her.” The confidence in her voice only grew with these words. As Juzo placed a new set of handcuffs around her, both of the girls gave Makoto a reassuring nod as he stepped out of the cell to return to his quarters.

The pair led Mukuro through the halls in complete silence, no one daring to open their mouths for an uncanny amount of time. Through what must have been a byproduct of Makoto’s luck, they did not encounter a single other soul in the long imposing hallways of the building.

“The gym will be available right now, I’m sure of it.” Juzo finally broke the silence in a hushed voice he leered behind him to ensure that Mukuro was still there. She wouldn’t dream of something as bold as an escape attempt, but the bloodthirsty boxer was none too keen to listen to her reasoning right now.

Ryota exited one of the many rooms of the hallway they were in, and he smiled upon seeing his fellow branch director. Mukuro instinctively turned away as she realized how many powerful people in this building she had personally wronged in some way.

So much for his luck.

“Oh, mister Sakakura, I have some questions.” Ryota paused and fear grew in his voice once he saw whose chains he was pulling along the hall. “W-Wait, why is she out here?”

“I urge you not to get involved in this, Ryota.” Sakura said as she stepped forward.

Juzo chuckled at the sight of colleague. “No, actually, it’s useful you happened by.”

Ryota cringed at the loaded phrasing of Juzo’s remark.

“Sir-“

“Gather everyone you can find and tell them to come to the ring in thirty minutes.” He ordered Ryota as he cracked his knuckles and looked behind him to face Mukuro.

“I’ll be putting on a show for them.”

* * *

The gym wasn’t actually meant to fit an audience in its walls, as evidenced by the cramped conditions suffered by those attempting to spectate what was sure to be a grandiose bout. There were only about a dozen people, excluding Kyoko leaning on a wall at the far end of the room. She made no attempt to mask her interest in the actions of both combatants or hide her gaze from them.

Mukuro only vaguely registered most of these things. Most of her mental faculties were dedicated to kicking herself (ironically) for agreeing to traditional boxing rules for this match rather than mixed martial arts or some other form of sparring that would allow her to use her agility to the fullest. Not even being allowed to duck below the belt was practically incapacitating.

“Five seconds on the ground or outside of the ring will mark the end of this match.” Sakura explained, clearly intending to take her role as referee as seriously as possible. While Mukuro enjoyed the prospect of her being so rigid with the rules as a way of protecting her, she knew a large portion of this came from Sakura’s passion for the art of combat.

“Will this actually solve anything?” Mukuro asked Juzo.

No response came from him other than the hatred radiating off him in waves.

As Sakura motioned for the two fighters to go to the opposite ends of the ring, Mukuro at least took comfort in the fact that her friend would prevent Juzo from using this an excuse to try and kill her.

She was still almost guaranteed to walk out of this with something broken, but that was beside the point.

The lack of an actual bell meant that they would have to rely on Sakura’s cue to start the match. All eyes in the room fell upon her as she stepped into the center of the ring with a raised fist. She spared a moment to glance at the both of them, then brought down her fist with a speed truly befitting of the ultimate martial artist. The match had begun.

As Mukuro expected, Juzo charged forward to go for an uppercut. As she moved to the left to avoid the blow, she heard the rush of air caused by his fists louder than the cries of surprise by the members of Future Foundation over the prospect of someone dodging a blow from the ultimate boxer.

She brought her fist into his side with all her might and he staggered back somewhat, though he recovered after a single step away from the soldier. He grinned at her with a level of malice that she had seen plenty of times before on the faces of lesser men. These sorts of grins were an unspoken taunt, a proclamation that they were stronger than the one they were looking at.

Unlike all the other times she had seen this grin, she knew there was a weight to these unspoken words.

In that moment, she realized this fight would be a test of endurance. If she could sufficiently exhaust him, she had a chance at winning.

He came at her with a left hook. Mukuro almost dodged, but the blow still connected with the side of her shoulder. She went stumbling from the force and stopped at the ropes of the ring.

She jumped away just before her opponent could land another blow that would have otherwise surely landed on her face this time.

She gripped her shoulder in pain.

With this new sensation of being injured hindering her, he was too fast.

Mukuro realized she had no idea why she had agreed to this.

She stopped dodging for an instant and Juzo took full advantage of this.

She hadn’t been promised anything in return for this.

A blow to her face took away her vision for an instant. She remained upright with no sort of emotion on her face as Juzo stopped moving toward her and smirked once again.

She took advantage of his overconfidence and landed an uppercut, catching him off guard and planting him on his back.

Sakura didn’t even get to start a countdown before the boxer was back on his feet, his confidence replaced by indignation.

Mukuro continued to take the offensive, but this quickly proved to be a mistake. His right fist hitting her gut once again knocked the air from her lungs and she collapsed on the floor, clutching her stomach.

_“One!”_

She writhed in pain, knowing that Juzo was probably having the time of his life looking at her like this.

_“Two!”_

They both knew he didn’t actually have anything to gain anything from this.

She stumbled on to her feet before Sakura could continue her count.

Juzo sauntered up to him and let out a right hook.

It was too slow for him. She slid past the blow and used his momentum against him to deliver a gut punch of her own.

He stopped dead in his tracks and clutched his stomach in pain.

Mukuro jumped back to get in front of him to deliver yet another uppercut, hitting him square in the nose. He fell onto his back once again.

_“One!”_

The tension in the room was unbearable.

_“Two!”_

The room fell silent as Juzo lay there motionless.

_“Three!”_

Mukuro realized that she found this meaningless victory to be surprisingly enjoyable.

_“Four!”_

Juzo shot up at a speed that even impressed Mukuro.

Juzo used his newfound element of surprise to the fullest and punched Mukuro right in the jaw before she could react. As she recoiled forward, he landed another blow to her stomach, leaving her once again breathless and curled up in a ball.

_“One!”_

She faded out of consciousness.

_“Two!”_

And then came back to her senses.

_“Three!”_

She could have gotten back up.

_“Four!”_

But she would not feed his ego like that.

_“Five!”_

Juzo stood triumphantly over the disheveled form of a traumatized teenage girl as if he’d won yet another one of his prized championships. The actual applause he received was fittingly far less boisterous than what the rest of his career had made him come to expect, though this was more due to the miniscule crowd than anything else. Mukuro propped herself up with the arm that her opponent hadn’t injured and Sakura came to help her up, though she was stop by the venom in Mukuro’s voice.

“So what?” She spat out in between rasped breaths. He turned to face her, and she said something that caused the blood to drain from his face.

“You’ll still have to tell him your feelings one day.”

A deafening silence overcame the arena. No one save for the two that the words had been exchanged between understood the context or significance of Mukuro’s words. However, anyone could see that what she said shook Juzo to his core.

“All of you. Out. Now.” His words were spoken in a muffled voice and through gritted teeth, but they carried themselves through the room as though they were shouted at the top of his lungs.

The observers were practically climbing on top of each other to leave the gym as fast as possible, their desire to avoid the ire of the ultimate boxer vastly outweighing their curiosity about the ultimate soldier’s words. The exception to this was of course Kyoko, who made her way through the crowd to closer observe what was happening in the ring. If Juzo noticed the detective’s prowling, he made no comment on it.

He most likely did not notice it, considering that his attention had been drawn to Sakura, who had positioned herself in between him and the newfound embodiment of all of his insecurities.

“I told you I would not allow any undue harm to come to my friend.” She stated calmly as she took up a combative stance. “As I said, I cannot hope to understand what happened between you two-”

“And like I told you, don’t fucking bother!” He roared in response as his fist collided with Sakura’s face.

She staggered back, then retaliated with a knee to his groin. He crumpled over, and Sakura placed him on his back with her foot, then placed it on his chest.

To the surprise of all the women in the room, he didn’t put up a fight.

Juzo turned his head to face Mukuro and finally responded to her words.

“I know.”

His voice was just as hushed as when he emptied the room, but the seething anger that threatened to boil over at any moment was replaced by a deep melancholy that reminded Mukuro of her former comrades she had seen on the battlefield who were about to die and faced it with nothing but a weary resignation.

Sensing that the will to fight had completely vacated him, Sakura took her foot off Juzo’s chest. He sat up and rested his head on to his curled up knees.

“So say it. Even if it’s just to us, it will make you feel better.” Mukuro was no ultimate therapist, but she hoped she could reach him through an experience with Junko that was at least tangentially similar to his. Not quite ready to stand yet, Mukuro made her ways towards the man on her knees and sat herself next to him in a similar position to his.

He was dead silent.

“You know, Junko used to hold the crush I had on Makoto over me.”

“You think I’m hiding this because of her?” Juzo snapped with what little bile he had left in him. “You have no idea what its like to not even be able to love someone without it eating away at you all of your life. The only thing your bitch of a sister did was spell out the truth I already knew.”

“So Junko prevented you from being with the one you love?” Sakura attempted to clarify as she made her way towards the duo on the floor.

“Yes.” He murmured.

“May I offer some advice, sir?” She asked, finally switching back to the honorifics. If he wouldn’t listen to one of them, then perhaps the other could get to him. She took his silence as a cue to continue.

“As Mukuro said, she too has nearly had her love taken from her by Junko.” She clenched her fist as she remembered that day in the garden. “But she took back her world with her own two hands by making the hardest choice of her life.”

She knelt down to reach her hand out to the dejected boxer. “Self-determination allowed her to free herself from Junko and be with the one she loves. It will do the same for you.”

“The rest of the world-“

“Will be cruel to you. It always has been.” Mukuro finished his thought for him.

“But the one you love will not, I can tell.” Sakura continued off of Mukuro’s point, her hand still outstretched for Juzo to grab on to.

He took hold of it.

“Kyosuke… I’m in love with Kyosuke.”

Saying it out loud did not make the burden of accepting his sexuality disappear, but what little it had done to ease the weight was enough for now. He straightened his shoulders as he stood up and noted that he was standing up just a little straighter than before. To say that he would forgive Mukuro any time soon was incorrect, but he would not forget what she had done to help him on the path to self-acceptance.

* * *

Kyoko wasn’t sure if it was luck that kept anyone from noticing she had left the room or if they simply hadn’t felt the need to say anything after having done so much for the division leader, but she was thankful for not having been stopped no matter the reason. For the first time in her life, she felt she had gone too far in an investigation.

What she had done was nothing short of voyeurism. She had been so utterly convinced that Juzo’s grudge against her former classmate was due to some internal feud in Ultimate Despair that she completely thrown away all moral safeguards she usually employed during these investigations. However, she swore to herself that this would only be a miner setback in her investigation into the intelligence leaks that were obviously coming from inside the organization.

The concept of there being a traitor among their ranks was not something Kyoko had eagerly considered, but when Hifumi’s sketchbook disappeared as soon as it would have been useful for aiding Mukuro, it vanished. The fact that it was lost inside Future Foundation’s headquarters could only mean that the traitor was one of their number. One of them was a mole, and the ultimate detective made it her sworn duty to find them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this chapter ended up being a lot more juzo centric than I originally intended but as an mlm who has also been blackmailed using my identity (dont ask ;-;) his story hits a lot closer to home than i'd like for it to.  
> Also if anyone wants to lend a helping hand, where exactly is the future folk's hq located? I have some future plot points that kind of assume its somewhere in mainland japan but im not too sure on that looking back on it. I couldnt find any canon material that states where this place is D:


	7. Lopt the Treacherous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mukuro's time with Makoto takes a turn for the worse. Nagito decides to revise the plans for Towa city.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey look the plots actually moving foward how fucked up is that  
> i thought that was never gonna happen

The good will that human beings harbor for one another can be quantified.

Not in any traditional sense, of course. Try as all the sociologists and psychologists of the world might, there is no standard of measurement for positive emotions. However, they can be crudely estimated by those familiar enough with the human experience to do so. The more actions you take to earn the trust of those around you, the less likely they are to retaliate when you take action against them.

This principle of approximate equivalent exchange was what forced Izuru Kamukura to behave subtly whenever he allowed himself out of his cell.

Escaping the cell was bother, with all of its electronic locks and biometric sensors costing Izuru thirty eight minutes and twelve seconds every time he exited. From there his talent as the ultimate lucky student would allow him to avoid security patrols without even trying, though he also had his talent as the ultimate martial artist to incapacitate those who tried to stop him when his luck failed him. Resealing his prison took twice as much time in order to ensure that everything would appear undisturbed, even with his talent of the ultimate escape artist. Performing the same task multiple times always bored Izuru, but it was necessary to confirm his suspicions.

Kyosuke would never find the wiretap in his office before Izuru got what he wanted out of this organization.

_“That’s assuming she doesn’t go rogue, though.”_

With the way Chisa alternated between her ditzy, carefree persona from before Junko broke her and the more serious one she was using now that insisted all traces of despair must be eradicated, it was an anomaly that someone as intelligent as Kyosuke could not see that she was manipulating him.

Perhaps the very same love that allowed Mukuro to realize the truth was the very same love that prevented Kyosuke from realizing the truth.

Such a self-contradictory state of mind required further study.

_“She won’t. Even if she still has ties to her sister’s organization, we can use Makoto to negotiate with her.”_

_“You mean as a hostage.”_

The cynicism that Chisa laced every word with was infectious to those around her, yet still mind-numbingly boring to Izuru.

For a moment, the unofficial leader of Future Foundation did not respond.

Chisa was taunting him. She used her true nature like a toy to dangle in the face her love to spread despair between the both of them. Izuru determined there was simply no other explanation such illogical behavior on the part of Kyosuke, save for the one Izuru did not have sufficient knowledge of to draw conclusions with.

_“I had planned on using him more delicately, but yes, he would be a hostage.”_

_“And what makes you so sure Mukuro even cares about that boy? Have you seen how Juzo has been acting around her lately? By his standards for expressing affection, she’s practically become his best friend! She obviously just manipulates everyone around her. You’re lucky I’m here to make sure she doesn’t wrap you around her thumb, too.”_

If Juzo had not just stayed his hand around Mukuro, but actively embraced her, that could only mean she had helped him come out of the closet far quicker than anticipated. While she no doubt had others there to help her talk the boxer down, this was still happening ahead of schedule.

Anomaly after anomaly plagued this scenario. It was almost exciting.

Almost.

Kyosuke let out a heavy sigh and Izuru imagined the student council president rubbing his fingers on his temple, which he was no doubt doing.

He didn’t even try to fight his colleague’s proclamation that Mukuro was a traitor.

_“So what do you suggest we do about her?”_

_“Well we can’t just kill her…”_

Her voice was tinged with a grief that only Izuru could sense.

_“But… it wouldn’t raise too many questions if she just didn’t make it out of Towa city, right? We just have to ensure she gets sent on a mission even she can’t survive.”_

_“And how exactly do we send the ultimate soldier on a suicide mission without her realizing it?”_

_“I think I have an idea. For now, just let Juzo get all buddy buddy with her-“_

Izuru turned off the receiver for the wire. He knew how this conversation was going to play out and would not burden his senses by making himself experience something so predictable. He knew Chisa neither knew nor cared whether or not her plan to get Mukuro killed would actually work. He knew Chisa’s actual plan just relied on getting her out of the picture here at the base of operations for the foreseeable future.

With Mukuro headed to Towa, his course of action was decided. He would stay here in the custody of Future Foundation for the time being. The traitor’s machinations could not come to pass, not until he got what he needed from Miaya and Chihiro. He would see Chiaki again. He would learn the meaning behind the only tear he ever shed in his entire artificially induced existence.

Junko would just have to find her own way to come back from the dead.

* * *

A gunshot rang through the air. Makoto yelped in surprise as he covered his ears in pain, even though he was already wearing earplugs.

“I told you it would be loud.” Mukuro remarked with a playful smirk. It was nice to be able to do that without worrying someone would comment on her smile. She still had to remind herself that Junko was not here to mock her every display of emotion, nor would anyone else gawk at her for breaking her usual stone cold façade.

According to Makoto, she had a pretty smile. Now she blushed every time she smiled, thoughts of the best compliment she’d ever received overcoming the noises of her anxieties.

Being let out of her cell and into an actual dorm since her eventful match with Juzo last week had put her in something approximating a good mood. She was happy that her very existence no longer incurred the ire of one of the most powerful people in this building. However, none of this changed the dread she felt when she remembered that in just a few days, Makoto Naegi of all people would be embarking to Towa without her.

It made sense when given thought beyond the prospect of direct combat. According to Jin, neither Makoto nor the other two members of 14th division from her class would ever see action, assuming that these battles were to happen at all. Juzo and his men were to handle any resistance that Future Foundation encountered. Makoto, Sayaka, and Leon would be alongside them to sooth the fears of the civilian populace and use their charisma to encourage cooperation. Mukuro attempted to reassure herself that everything would go according to plan, but the fact that Jin declined to be there in person made the soldier suspicious.

Thus, training her friends in self defense was an optimal strategic response. Mukuro could hardly believe she was allowed to be in a firing range, but it was made slightly more believable when she remembered that she needed what amounted to a permission slip from Juzo every time she wanted to come here.

“Yeah, but you didn’t tell us it’d be _that_ loud.” Leon grumbled out Makoto’s thoughts for him. “Seriously, you do this for a living?”

If this was how they were going to react to a single gunshot, these three would have a long road ahead of them.

Leon stared at Mukuro waiting for an answer, but soon went back to once again staring at the warden that had been following Mukuro everywhere since she had been let out of her cell.

“Leon…” Sayaka chastised him as she stepped closer to him. “You’re staring again.”

“I-I’m sorry… it’s just, I think that that warden might have…”

“Might have what?” The irritation in Sayaka’s voice was unmistakable.

He leaned in towards the idol to ask her something.

She slapped him on the back of the head, and the athlete winced in pain.

“You should know better than to ask those sorts of things about a woman!” She lectured him while shaking her finger in front of his face.

“H-huh? What did he say?” Makoto asked.

“Absolutely nothing you need to worry about.” She reassured him with a smile that could not have been less reassuring.

“Uhm, ma’am, I don’t mean to be rude,” She turned to Mukuro and she suddenly grew nervous. “but isn’t Future Foundation going to be giving us some kind of special gun for this mission?” Sayaka asked, trying to change the topic.

Mukuro clasped her hands in front of her in an attempt to appear more casual upon hearing Sayaka use such a formal title for someone she considered a friend. The soldier had only recently come to notice the negative effects of having such an intimidating manner about her.

“Those ‘guns’ are basically glorified laser pointers, all they do is disable a machine effected by them.” Mukuro explained. The technology behind those things would put even Chihiro to shame, but they were still highly situational. “You’ll need to carry another weapon with you in case something goes wrong, or if you have to fight an actual person.”

Mukuro said the words as though they were just a fact of life. After all, that’s what they were to her. Her confirmed kill count was greater than the student body of Hope’s Peak before The Tragedy.

She only noticed she said something unnatural when the room became incredibly tense, and her friend’s faces grew pale. They were frozen in place at the realization of just what going to warzone would entail.

“Y-You don’t really mean…” Sayaka could not even manage to finish her sentence.

Mukuro found herself petrified by the same fear that now enveloped her classmates. Snuffing out the life of another human was a trivial matter to her, no more of an issue than breathing or eating.

These three were different. They were something that, try as she might, Mukuro would never be capable of being. They were innocent. They were kind. They were regular teenagers being asked to travel with an army to city with an unknown amount of threats for reasons they were only vaguely aware of.

And now, one of their friends was telling them they might have to end the life of another thinking, feeling human being. She didn’t even have the good sense to stop using that same emotionless tone of voice that made others think there was no heart inside her at all.

Tears welled up in Makoto’s eyes as he put down his gun.

“I can’t do that!” He exclaimed as he steadied his footing. Makoto’s sudden outbursts of assertiveness always caught those who knew him off guard, despite the fact that such episodes have become far more common recently.

“Yeah, I’m gonna have to side with the little guy here.” Leon sheepishly asserted as he scratched the back of his head. “I mean, even if we run into one of those despair freaks, that’s still another person we’re talking about! We can’t just kill people like that.”

“He’s right.” Sayaka chimed in, though she seemed just as uncertain with this choice as she was with the prospect of violence. “I don’t think I’d be able to forgive myself if I killed someone.”

The three of them were standing side by side now, their posture straighter than normal as they united in their assertion against violence.

This should have been heartwarming; anyone else would have certainly said so.

It took Mukuro a second to realize that what she was feeling was pure unadulterated rage. The trio slunk back from her as her face contorted and her fists balled up and turned white.

“Woah hey, what uh… what’s going on?” The fact that Leon could stammer out his question at all was nothing short of a miracle. Perhaps seeing that the other two were practically hiding behind him forced the athlete’s hand.

“How can you all be so selfish?!” Mukuro didn’t often raise her voice, but when she did it was a sight to behold. Her classmates were shoving their backs against the wall in fear of her ire.

Makoto stepped out from behind the other two. “What do you mean, selfish?”

“I mean what gives you the right to say those things? What would any of you know about murder?”

It took Makoto a moment to formulate his response, and even then, it came out in voice quavering in fear. “Look, we all know about what you did before we met-“

“Fenrir has nothing to do with this!” Such treasonous words would have had her shot if she had spoken them a few years ago. Now, however, Fenrir was gone; burned to ash and scattered to the winds by her own hand. They were nothing more than a footnote in history, all for the sake of a woman that also ended up dying by Mukuro’s hand.

“What about me? You think I just forgave myself for what I did to save you all!?” Tears were forming in Mukuro’s eyes, but she no longer cared. “I loved Junko more than anything in the world and I killed her so you all could live, and _this_ is how you talk about what I did?!”

Their eyes grew wide like saucers, and Sayaka stepped forward to try in talk in the stead of the other two. “W-We didn’t mean-“

“Just get out!” Mukuro roared.

Sayaka and Leon nervously moved towards the door, but Makoto stayed where he was, his feet trembling. Right as he was about to say something, Leon took one look at the look on Mukuro’s face and dragged the poor boy away.

With that, Mukuro’s knees gave in. She sat on the floor completely motionless, save for the tears streaming down her face.

The last time she stood up for herself and shouted her thoughts at someone, it had been a lot more liberating than this.

The door to the firing range opened and Juzo sauntered in, Sakura in tow. Mukuro had no energy in her to fight whatever ill tidings he brought with him.

“Seems we picked a bad time.” Juzo remarked. He certainly softened up around Mukuro since their match, but the boxer still had a habit of making unnecessary insults.

The soldier didn’t get up from her position on the floor.

“Worry not, Mukuro.” Sakura reassured her with smile that was almost mischievous for the likes of her. “We come bearing good news for once.” This prompted a scowl from her commanding officer.

“Sorry, sir.” Sakura’s smile did not waver.

“Just tell me why you’re here.” Mukuro barked at the two. She was not in the mood for idle banter.

“We come bearing news that just might happen to be good for you.” Juzo’s clarification piqued Mukuro’s interest despite her emotional state.

“What do you mean?” Mukuro asked as she looked up to him.

“First off, get up soldier.” He ordered as he reached out to help her off the ground.

“Soldier?” If that was meant to be another disparaging nickname, it was awfully tame.

“You’ve been offered a position in 6th division.” Sakura clarified. “You’ll be coming with us to Towa.”

“I am?” She took Juzo’s hand and shot up upon hearing those words. She wasn’t entirely sure what that meant for her argument with her classmates, but for the moment Mukuro was just happy to have a chance to protect Makoto.

“I know what you’re thinking, and it’s not that simple.” Juzo clarified, shooting Mukuro’s hopes down. “You’re not just going to be your little boyfriend’s bodyguard.”

Mukuro was well aware that soldiers were rarely assigned the roles on the battlefield that they wish to have, but something about these orders tugged at her heartstrings in a way that made her want to reach into her chest and pull the cursed thing out completely.

“Then where will I be?”

“You’ll be with Sakura. She and the forces assigned to her have been tasked with watching over the bridge leading in and out of Towa to make sure any members of Ultimate Despair that may be in the city don’t try to make a run for it. Kyosuke was very clear that you were to be under supervision at all times when not in this building.” Juzo explained. “However…”

He handed Mukuro a manila folder filled with pictures and descriptions of people (and a stinkbug and a cat, for some reason) she’d never heard of. Sakura stepped forward to give her piece of the explanation.

“Juzo and I have reached an understanding of sorts.” Sakura’s grin was uncharacteristically smug, and Mukuro imagined what sort of sparring match Juzo must have lost that made him agree to this.

“This would be my first time leading soldiers into battle. It is a complicated duty, and there are going to be points in which I may fail to properly give orders to you. Therefore, it is only natural that you might use my inexperience as an opportunity to slip away undetected.”

Mukuro flipped through the profiles of people contained in the folder and stopped as she saw a young girl with the family name _Naegi_.

“As you may remember, Kyosuke has decided that recovering the hostages is a secondary priority and has not given anyone assigned to Towa the dedicated task of finding them. So, if you do happen to elude me, your classmates would be eternally grateful to you, should you rescue those dear to them.”

Mukuro wasn’t entirely sure why they bothered using such roundabout phrasing to explain what they wanted her to do when there weren’t any recording devices in the room. Perhaps this was just a matter of preserving the pride of Mukuro’s new commanding officer, who walked out without another word.

Mukuro was feeling too many emotions at once to pick out and name any individual one.

Perhaps saving his little sister would patch things up between her and Makoto.

“You seem unwell.” Sakura remarked. “Did something happen between you and the ones you invited here?”

“Yes.” She responded curtly.

“I cannot force you to discuss this if you are unwilling, but I feel you should know that I will soon join Aoi in the dining hall. Perhaps you would like to join us?”

Mukuro wasn’t particularly in the mood to talk about it, but she also knew that it would be for the best.

* * *

Even the eternally bubbly and bright personality of Aoi Asahina wilted somewhat as Mukuro explained her newfound relationship problems. The only positive thing about today, as far as Mukuro was concerned, was that the donuts here were much better than she expected.

“When you told me Mukuro was having boy problems, I kinda assumed it was gonna be a little easier to deal with than this.” The swimmer whispered to her friend as though the ultimate soldier would be unable to hear such a remark.

Mukuro’s glare caused her to freeze up.

“Look, I get that you’re troubled, I really do…” She rubbed the back of her head nervously. “But I’m not really an expert in this whole morality stuff.”

“I must admit,” Sakura sighed out. “I also find this predicament to be… outside of my scope.”

“Yeah… Wait wait wait! Don’t leave!”

Mukuro sat back down when she noticed the desperation in Aoi’s voice.

“You just said you couldn’t help me though.” Mukuro hadn’t intended to put as much anger in those words as there actually was, but it came out regardless.

“I just… I’m not really sure what to do about this, you know?” Aoi shrugged her shoulders as she continued. “It just seems like you two were bound to have an argument like this eventually.”

“I don’t follow.” Mukuro had assumed Makoto would never be the type to allow conflict to exist between the two of them, but she supposed that it was foolish to think any boy could be so perfect. Admittedly, he came pretty close.

“I believe I understand Aoi’s train of thought.” Sakura added. “You two have walked near perfectly opposite paths in life, so it is only natural your opinions on something so drastic as murder would differ.”

“So?” Mukuro spat back, kicking herself for taking her anger at Makoto out on such a trusted friend even as she was in the process of doing it. “He should have realized what he was saying was rude!”

Sakura’s eyes widened in epiphany, and she smiled somewhat before continuing. “That is correct. He _should_ have realized, yet he _could_ not.”

“Huh? What’s that supposed to mean?” Aoi asked, her mouth once again filled with her favorite food.

“As I said, you two come from completely different worlds. To him, murder is a frightening hypothetical scenario, never to actually be committed.” She clarified as she turned to Mukuro. “You of all people are well aware that sometimes there simply is no other option, yet he has been taught from birth that all other alternatives are preferable. His rejection of your philosophy was instinctual, not an active choice.”

“So, what? I just have to make him apologize?” Mukuro had methods of getting people to say what she wanted, but even the anger she felt towards Makoto now did not make the prospect of using these methods on him any more appealing.

“Wait, hold on.” Aoi interjected with a serious look on her face. “This means you totally messed up too!”

“H-Huh?” Mukuro shivered at the thought of having wronged Makoto of all people.

“I mean, think about what Sakura said! As far as Makoto could tell, you just yelled at him a bunch for saying killing people is wrong. So all you guys gotta do is admit you both said stuff you shouldn’t have and then, bam! It’s all better.” She posed triumphantly in her seat upon reaching the end of her conclusion. “I told you I was good with boys!”

Contrary to the swimmer’s victorious posturing, Mukuro was slumped back in her seat with her head in her hands. She was already reeling with emotion, and the realization that she was just as much to blame for this strife as Makoto utterly devastated her. She hated herself for being so self-centered and short-sighted that she couldn’t even stop to think of what he would think, despite how much she professed her love for him. It was idiotic of her. Absolutely pathetic.

“Ignore your self deprication, Mukuro.” Sakura ordered her. “As Aoi said, all you need to do is apologize to him.”

She began to get up.

“Tomorrow.” She added.

Mukuro slumped back into her seat.

“He will most likely want to spend a moment alone with his thoughts.”

Mukuro straightened her posture in an attempt to ease her own worries. Surely, everything would be fine once Makoto had time to sleep on her argument and realized they could talk things out.

Were it so easy.

* * *

Even with the entirety of Towa city using electric cars running on solar batteries, something about the streets of the downtown area still had an urban stench to them. Haiji supposed it was all the people wearing such stuffy suits spending so much time literally rubbing shoulders together in the bright sunlight. He always hated body odor, a distaste he was strongly reminded of as he began to sweat through his own suit due to the heat.

Normally, Haiji wouldn’t even be on the street to begin with. His father was the owner of Towa industries, effectively making him the prince of this newly founded city-state. Beffiting of his status, he had a fleet of luxury cars (all electronically powered and produced by his own company, of course) and a legion of servants to drive them through the annoying city traffic for him.

However, for reasons that varied from sickness, to injury, to death in the family, to obviously faked sickness, injury, and death, none of those servants were available today. Not only that, but every single one of those cars experienced some sort of technical problem that rendered them inoperable.

Thus, to get home from work, the prince of Towa was forced to mingle with the masses and try to hail a cab. Oddly enough, he didn’t remember Monaca having any problems getting to or from the offices today.

Stranger things have happened, but Haiji could hardly think of any examples.

“Nice weather we’re having, huh?” A voice called out from behind him.

“Huh? Uh, yeah sure.” Haiji had always been under the impression that people mingling on the street like this never actually talked to each other, but he’d been wrong about this stuff before.

“Sure is better than the rest of the world right now.” The stranger remarked as he shoulder-checked his way up to Haiji’s position at the curb of the sidewalk, muttering weirdly self-deprecating apologies the entire way.

Haiji looked down to see a teenager with scraggly white hair and a hoodie that couldn’t possibly be comfortable in this weather. It could've been some medical thing, given that his skin was so sickly that it wasn't as pale as it was transluscent, but it's not like Haiji cared enough to ask.

“Yeah… You’re not from around here, are you?” This guy probably was just weird after all.

“You got me. I’m new to Towa city.” The stranger’s voice grew somber as he stared at his open palm, of all the things to stare at. “Though, you probably won’t remember trash like me by the end of the week, with all the new faces that are coming to this city next week.”

“Kid, what are you talking about? We don’t just let anybody in here.” Towa city’s security forces were incredibly strict about letting people into the city. Future Foundation had to be kept out at all costs.

The stranger stuck out his thumb to hail a cab, and after Haiji had tried and failed to get one for half an hour, one stopped right in front of the white haired boy before he even finished extending his arm. He opened the door to the car and looked up toward Haiji.

“You need a ride home, right?” He asked. “Hop in, I’ll cover your fair!”

Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Haiji stepped into the door that the boy opened for him. The two of them shared a moment of silence to read a sign that was taped to the back of the driver’s seat explaining that the driver of this taxi was deaf, and that instructions would have to be given in a written form.

The stranger chuckled as he finished reading it. “Just my luck.”

That phrase seemed to be an inside joke he had with himself. He glared at the kid the way one would glare at shit on the sidewalk.

“Your luck?” Haiji asked as he showed the driver his address.

The stranger waited until the car started moving before he explained himself.

“It means I can get right to the point of what I need to tell you, Haiji Towa.”

The back of the car felt very small all of the sudden.

“Kid, what the hell-“

“Future Foundation has amassed an army of fifteen thousand soldiers and is planning a military occupation of this city that will begin next week. Their goal is to shut down the production of the Monokuma robots.”

…

Questions raced through Haiji’s mind at the stranger’s words, one far more prevalent than the rest.

“Why the hell should I believe that? Nobody in this city’s told a soul about that factory.”

“Clearly, you guys aren’t that good with secrets if you just told a random teenager you’re sharing a cab with.”

Haiji bit his tongue out of nervousness as sweat rolled down his brow.

“Don’t worry about how I know all of this, I’ve got two great friends in Future Foundation. One of them was my teacher in high school! How random is that?” The stranger’s levity in his voice was obviously done on purpose for his own amusement.

“Alright, fine. Who told _them_ about the city’s secret?” The back of this car was getting seriously cramped.

“The same woman who killed your best customer.” He responded with a laugh. “That leashless dog has a habit of sticking her nose in places that it doesn’t belong…”

Haiji couldn’t remember that girl’s name. He was pretty sure it was something like Yukino.

“Her name is Mukuro.”

This kid was too fucking smart for his own good.

The prince of Towa sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, sure. That’s great. Why are you telling me this?” The damn brat obviously had no love for Future Foundation, judging from the fact that this conversation was happening at all.

“I had… plans for this city that relied on Future Foundation responding to the threat in this city in an entirely different way, but Mukuro, as she does, threw a wrench in those plans. As it stands, there will be no hope in the future. To ensure that hope will shine as bright as it can, I need to-“

“Oh holy shit, kid. Forget I asked!” Haiji demanded as he held a finger up to the stranger’s mouth to silence him. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”

“Wait, you’re going along with me that easily?” He asked in disbelief. “Wow, that’s just my luck! I didn’t even need to get to the part where I tell you that Future Foundation would kill you if they found out about how long you’ve been knowingly sitting in a taxi with a member of the Ultimate Despair!”

At this point, Haiji had grown numb to all the dramatic reveals.

“Anyways, the only thing I need you to do is spend some time with your little sister that you hate so much.”

Haiji opened his mouth to protest this claim of familial relationships, but he knew there was no point in trying to keep secrets from the stranger.

“I’m sure you noticed all the company funds she’s diverted towards her little fighter bot pet project. When you see her, ask her about the _Warriors of Hope_.”

The cab came to a stop in front of the the apartment complex that Haiji had taken the entire top floor of for himself. He had a feeling that none of the luxury goods up there would be able to ease his anxieties tonight.

The stranger reached into his coat and handed the driver a stack of ten thousand yen bills thicker than his own forearm. Haiji stepped out of the cab before he could see the driver wordlessly protest being paid that much for his services.

Of course that little bitch would come up with a dumb name like _Warriors of Hope_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Will Mukuro be able to smooth things over with our little hope? :O  
> Find out  
> three chapters from now cause the next two chapters arent gonna contain any mukuro or makoto whatsoever :3  
> I'm gonna miss them as much as you will i promise ;-;  
> but class 77 needs some love :)


	8. INTERLUDE: Carolus Regina, Pt. I

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sonia's plans for the conquest of Europe are drastically altered upon Junko Enoshima's death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _All that's thine shall be mine, there's no stopping me  
>  All over Europe my rule shall be questioned by none  
> All I see give to me, that is my decree  
> MY  
> WILL  
> BE  
> DONE  
> _

“Friend of foe, we await you here.”

Just like that, the broadcast ended. The television switched back to the looped propaganda broadcasts that Sonia personally found to be quite tasteless. They were of course, essential to remind the newly conquered citizens of Warsaw of the glory of the Nevermind Family and its newly crowned queen, but that did not change how tacky she found the monochromatic bear which now adorned the royal family’s crest to be. Perhaps the despair she received from constantly being forced to gaze upon such an unsightly beast was what inspired her to adorn all her soldiers and military equipment with its design and color scheme.

The queen looked to her sides to see if Mahiru and Gundham were wearing the same dumbfounded expressions on their faces as the one she no doubt had.

Gundham’s mood was as inscrutable as always. His eyes were unflinching even as tears formed and his hands shook. His mouth may have been contorted into some sickly grin or desperate frown, but it was impossible to tell due to his scarf that his hamsters once took shelter in was now covering the lower half of his face. Sonia never learned what became of those foul creatures, but she didn’t care to, considering the stench that those detestable things always brought with them.

Meanwhile, Mahiru was far more animated in her emotional state. The dejected photographer was sobbing tears of every sort of emotion as she attempted to form some sort of crazed grin but fell back into depression. It was a sentiment Sonia could relate to.

Since the day they graduated Hope’s Peak, Despair was what drove them to such horrible lengths. They had committed murder, theft, genocide, and all other manner of unspeakable atrocities in the name of the woman who now lay dead in body bag, slain by none other than her own sister.

They all held nothing but hatred in their hearts for Junko, that much was obvious. She was the one who was responsible for ruining them, twisting the hopes of a generation into the malformed monsters that now plagued the world with their meaningless machinations. The despair that Sonia and her former classmates received from knowing who they used to be was only outmatched by the despair of knowing that the one responsible for all of this and more was allowed to face no repercussions for her atrocities whatsoever.

Now, that prime source of despair had been robbed from class 77 by a woman who never even had to go through the same level of torment as they did. What Sonia was feeling now was not quite despair in the traditional sense. She certainly despised this feeling to its very core, but it did not fill her heart with grief like all the other tragedies that follow _the_ Tragedy. It was a blank, yawning abyss of emotionless emptiness. It was a vacuum that absorbed both hope and despair with its anticlimactic nature. It was nothing. Her classmates-turned-concubines sunk further and further into the emptiness of this vacuum to the point that it threatened to absorb their very souls.

However, Sonia’s talent as the ultimate princess allowed her to recognize this vacuum as a vacuum of power.

“Both of you, take heed! There is no need to worry.” She proclaimed with her arm outstretched as she stood up to address her lovers.

One that she would fill.

They got up from sitting in front of the television to bow before her. Even in this time of uncertainty, the regal aura that Sonia seemed to emanate with her every movement was unwavering. It was only natural that these proles would kneel before such majesty.

“W-What do you mean?” Mahiru asked, barely able to form a coherent sentence amidst the torrential emotions that swelled inside her mind.

Sonia glared daggers at the pathetic creature before her.

No amount of psychological turmoil can excuse not addressing your betters with the honors that they deserve.

“What do you mean, your highness?” She corrected herself as fear overcame all other thoughts in her head.

“Much better.” Sonia reassured her as she placed a kiss on her cheek. Upon this gesture, they both lifted their heads to meet the eyes of their ruler.

“As I was saying, this is not a time for fear!” For a moment, Sonia considered singing the praises of the late Enoshima to further stir the volatile emotions of her concubines but decided against it upon realizing that the hatred she carried for the foul fashionista was shared by them.

“Your highness, does her death not mean our actions were meaningless?” Mahiru questioned Sonia’s judgement despite knowing how much the queen of Novoselic loathed insubordination in all its forms.

Fortunately, Sonia was in no mood to punish every misstep the poor woman took. For now, it would be enough that she was using the appropriate honorifics.

“Not at all, my love!” Sonia said as she held out her arms, allowing both Gundham and Mahiru to take them in their own. They stood up to meet her gaze.

Such actions were unbecoming of someone of her status, but Sonia was well aware of the power that such displays could allow one to hold over those under their command. Sonia would never admit such things aloud, but she truly did enjoy the presence of these two servants. While her motives were still selfish at heart, she enjoyed seeing Mahiru smile when she found the perfect moment to preserve in her camera. She wished Mahiru would take pictures of her own face in these moments rather than whatever massacre Sonia’s armies had just committed.

“Despair is not one woman who bound these chains to our souls! It is an idea we have created through our actions throughout the world!” Sonia giggled to herself at the thought of her next point, and her lovers began to stand up just a little straighter.

“Do you not see? We are the Ultimate Despair, not her!” A half-truth, really. That title would be reserved for Sonia alone. These two would simply be grateful to be alongside her as she claimed it.

Her fitful, childish giggles became an unbecomingly boisterous laughter that filled their makeshift encampment through which they oversaw the desolation of Poland. She placed her hands on her hips to strike a triumphant pose. “That meaningless cur relied on others to achieve her dreams, and so she died just as she lived; in the dark, cowering in fear at the thought of those who realized they were her betters.”

Seeing that the two ultimates that had pledged loyalty to her were still shedding tears, she moved her hands up to wipe the tears from their eyes, causing both of them to blush. Mahiru embraced Sonia a hug while Gundham covered his cheeks with his scarf to hide his embarrassment. As Gundham finally joined the two of them in their hug, Sonia continued her speech.

“But we will be different. We have already proven ourselves a force to be reckoned with. The citizens of Warsaw can attest to that!” Mahiru giggled at this joke as Sonia placed another kiss on her cheek, then did the same for Gundham to ensure neither of them believed the other was receiving preferential treatment.

“Let us do as Mukuro did and prove that Junko was not needed! We shall spread despair to the world regardless of her!” The queen tilted her head and put on that same smile that won the hearts and minds of all those she attended Hope’s Peak with. “Starting, of course, with that treasonous backstabber currently hiding in our former high school.”

“Of course, your highness! Thank you for your guidance.” Mahiru sighed out as she exited their group hug. “Maybe we could get Fuyuhiko to put out a hit on her?” She suggested, though Sonia quickly shot down this proposition.

“All those who tried to assassinate Mukuro before that uncouth little man have failed. It is only to be expected, given her talent.” In this situation, Sonia’s talent would shine like no other. “The best course of action would be to march my army to the gates of Future Foundation, where she will no doubt be held once the rest of her class is rescued by them.”

“But your highness, how will we get all of these troops all the way from one end of continent to the other?” Mahiru asked. Though Sonia would have to remind her not to question the judgement of the queen of Novoselic in the future, this question was one that needed to be answered.

Fortunately, the answer was just slightly east of their current location.

“The railway system in Moscow will be perfect for our transportation needs. All we have to do is continue our path east, my servants!”

Such a task was daunting, even to the armies of the Nevermind family. The last force to successfully conquer Russia had done so almost a thousand years ago now. The city of Moscow and its citizens had proven too much for the armies of all who tried to change this. From Napoleon to Hitler no man could best the weather nor the people of Russia.

None of this would deter Sonia Nevermind.

So the queen of Novoselic proclaimed it, and so it would be.

* * *

Logan and Ahriman were their names, though Shinobu Togami could tell immediately the two had given her pseudonyms.

Logan was far from a common name for Ethiopian men. As for Ahriman, rich white Americans, while infamous for their bizarre naming conventions, would most likely not give their son the name of the embodiment of evil from a long forgotten religion. She didn’t actually have confirmation that Ahriman came from wealth, but the disgraced Togami was familiar enough with the telltale signs of someone who was born into money but had recently lost it all.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Shinobu. We’re here because you paid us, and you hardly even managed to do that.” Ahriman spat at her as she was about to begin to implore them to think of the civilians. He ran his fingers through his raven hair out of nervousness.

For example, the most common sign of having lost a family fortune was to place a value on money that was akin to your own life. She wanted to tell him off but as she looked at the wolf tattoos on the backs of their hands, Shinobu decided it would be best not to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Logan let out a hearty chuckle at his comrade’s words in an attempt to lighten the mood as he ran his hand across his hairless head. “Come now brother, put yourself at ease.” Logan reassured his brother in arms, though this only served to anger him further.

“Don’t call me brother!” Ahriman snapped as he took the vial of ashes around his neck into his hands. “That title has no more meaning, Fenrir is dead.”

While Ahriman was correct in his statement about his mercenary group having been reduced to dust, this did not mean the fortunes they had both accrued from their time in it had also been done away with. Logan’s townhouse on the outskirts of Moscow was lovely place with a bizarre Victorian aesthetic to its interiors that suggested it had been cared to regularly before the Tragedy. The office in particular was a place of great importance to Logan, judging by the amount of personal keepsakes and photos of memorable events that were strewn across its walls and surfaces.

Logan sighed deeply before striding towards his former comrade to place his hand on his shoulder. “You are right, I apologize.” Logan was a giant of a man and standing next to his shorter than average compatriot thoroughly demonstrated the height difference between him and the general populace.

“But you know as well as I do that she is right.” Logan continued as his partner did not respond. “Our enemy’s objective may be obvious, but that does not mean we can simply destroy the railroads and be done with it. We need them to evacuate those that cannot fight.”

“And why do we bother with that?” Ahriman asked as he stepped away from Logan. “Our objective is to halt the march of the Nevermind army, that is the most efficient way of doing it.” He shook his head as he continued. “The lives lost here pale in comparison to how many would die if Sonia were allowed to expand unchecked.”

“Well it’s a good thing neither of those will happen!” Shinobu exclaimed with a smile on her face that did not at all match the tone of the rest of the room. “Because we’re going to win here and drive them back.”

“Your optimism is boundless, Shinobu.” Ahriman remarked in a bitter voice. “I suggest you fix that. The heads of state in this country are all either dead or scattered to the winds, and your precious Future Foundation is so fixated upon its country of origin that it does not hear our cries for help on the other side of the world.”

He leaned over the mahogany table to emphasize his next words.

“We are alone.”

The dramatic effect of this reminder was dampened somewhat as a pair of rats scurried across the table. Shinobu had always had a strong distaste for the vermin, but they had become so commonplace in Moscow over the past few days that she could hardly notice it.

“Even so, I know we can make it!” The disgraced Togami retorted as she pumped her fists. “If we all do our best, we can stall them long enough for the Russians to reorganize their military. All we have to do is hold out.” A rat began trying to crawl up her leg and she kicked it away and maintained her determined expression.

A soft grin spread across Logan’s face upon seeing Shinobu’s determination.

“Do you see this, Ahriman?” Logan asked his comrade. “This woman’s hope will be our salvation, I am sure of it.”

“Logan-“

“She is a capable leader, far more so than either of us.” Logan added as his partner attempted to rebuke him. “If she can lead the citizens of Moscow to pool their money to hire us, she will certainly be able to lead them into battle.

“She fed them nonsense about banding civilians together to face an army!” Ahriman shouted.

“She gave them hope, Ahriman.” Logan replied without missing a beat as he walked around the table while talking. “And as long as perform the services we’ve been hired to; they won’t be civilians by the time the armies of Novoselic reach this place. We have the equipment here needed to arm them for war, all they need is our skills.”

“And if her ‘ _hope_ ’ and our desperate attempts at running a bootcamp aren’t enough?” Ahriman’s question hung heavy in the air, its presence a reminder that he would never truly be convinced in the validity of attempting to actually drive Sonia back.

Sensing that the unspoken statement within Ahriman’s question could not go unacknowledged, Shinobu decided the best thing to do would be to relent at least somewhat. She would not outright break her ideals, but she understood that they needed to be bent somewhat if this meeting was to go anywhere.

“Alright, we do need a backup plan. We can rig the railways with explosives to prevent them from using it, but we can’t detonate them unless all is truly lost!”

Ahriman sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. This compromise pleased neither of them, but it was better than going back and forth until Sonia broke down the doors to the room. He simply nodded at his new leader before walking out the door without a word, rats scurrying away from his feet as he moved. If nothing else, he would live up to his reputation as a master of explosives.

* * *

Mukuro Ikusaba was not a name Ahriman thought he would ever hear again.

Logan’s hatchet slammed into the target. Dead center, as always.

Now, she seemed to be the most important person on earth.

Logan tore the hatchet off the wall as he had done a thousand times before.

It was not a name he ever wanted to hear again.

The sound of the hatchet colliding with the target over and over was grating on Ahriman’s ears, but if he was allowed to tinker with C4 indoors, than he supposed it was only fair that Logan be permitted his own bothersome habit. It was always the same hatchet too. One would believe this fighting style of throwing axes around would suggest the need for multiple axes, but Logan had made due through his entire career in Fenrir with the one hatchet he was currently banging against the wall with annoying repetition. Logan had firearms, of course. He was not some action hero, despite his best efforts. However, the giant was never too keen to actually practice using them with any meaningful regularity.

At least the noise was keeping the rats away.

“So why did you agree not to use the explosives?” Logan asked in an attempt to break the silence that only existed in his mind thanks to the rhythmic thumping of the sharpened blade upon the wall that the targets were attached to. Logan opened one of the windows for whatever reason, causing a rush of chilled air to flow through the room. He was visibly refreshed by this, having just worked up quite the sweat. His partner, however, was none too pleased with the change in temperature.

Ahriman put down his tools and let out a long sigh. “The same reason you agreed to do this without pay.” He rebuked as he stood up to look Logan in the eye. “I fear we’ve grown soft.”

In truth, Ahriman knew that soft was not the right word for him. Soft was more than fitting for Logan, always going out of his way to play the hero and go above and beyond. Soft was the word used to describe mercenaries who had let their affection and compassion for their fellow man get in the way of doing their job. Ahriman had certainly failed to do his job properly, though not out of concern for civilians, or even Shinobu in particular. Ahriman had simply given into her incessant nagging.

What Ahriman had become was weak.

A weak mercenary is worse than a dead mercenary.

Logan chuckled at the man’s words. “I’ve _grown_ soft? Haven’t you been saying that since we first met all those years ago?”

Logan smiled as he remembered the mountains in Iran and his heroic deeds saving the village and leading to him becoming their hero, but all Ahriman thought of was him having to do all the grunt work to make sure the leader of those damn insurgents wasn’t able to run away. No one would sing Ahriman’s praises for what he had done that day, but Logan wasn’t the one who had earned them their paycheck. Though as much as Ahriman loathed to admit it, he did find the infinite optimism of his fellow survivor to be a comforting presence during the missions they went on together.

They met each other’s gaze and both of their thoughts quickly turned sour as they realized those days would never return.

They did not simply long to be mercenaries again; their skills as murderers could be used anywhere. What they missed was the unbreakable bonds of brotherhood that were forged between men and women who served under the emblem of the wolf. Fenrir turned those with potential into the finest warriors on earth, but not just through their skills alone. What truly made Fenrir a force to be reckoned with was that each member of the group knew each other like they were not separate beings at all. A numberless army of veteran warriors moving with a single mind eliminated all those who opposed them.

Now, the two men in this room were all that remained of the wolf that would end the world, and circumstance had forced them to indirectly aid the woman who had razed their found family to the ground. Ahriman clutched the vial around his neck as he realized he had lost all his family to Mukuro’s rampage, both found and literal.

“Ohrmuzd was a good man.” Logan reassured him as he put his hand on Ahriman’s shoulder. The sheer weight of his hand caused his shoulder to sink slightly before he willed for it to come back up. The mention of his dead brother’s pseudonym caused Ahriman to flinch.

“So were all the others. It didn’t stop her.” Ahriman spat back. Neither of them ever actually learned what drove Mukuro to destroy Fenrir so thoroughly, but Ahriman could hazard a guess given the woman’s newly discovered ties to Ultimate Despair.

“You know how we deal with deserters.” He added.

“How we _dealt_ with them.” Logan corrected him. “As you said when we discussed our terms with Shinobu, Fenrir is dead. You would do well not to let yourself be controlled by their ghosts.”

The fact that they had long since left the realm of the living did not mean that Ahriman did not hear them in every waking moment. The dead plagued his thoughts and demanded retribution at any costs. The only thing that had kept him alive all these years was his desire to avenge them, and here he was prattling about with civilians in order to help the woman he’d sworn to kill one day.

“I know what you are thinking.” Logan interjected, pulling him out of the miserable cauldron of his own thoughts. “Your revenge can wait.”

“It’s your revenge too, _brother_.” Ahriman responded as the venom laced into his last word causing Logan to cringe.

“Were you not listening to anything I said?” Logan shouted. The two mercenaries had argued with each other plenty of times before over everything from politics to philosophy to preferences in alcohol. However, there was a genuine anger in Logan’s voice this time. It was a type of anger he’d normally reserved for their more reprehensible targets, those whom Logan had deemed truly deserving of death.

Logan recoiled slightly, seemingly having recognized his misplaced anger. However, his anger at what Ahriman had said was not completely extinguished.

“I told you not to allow yourself to be controlled by the dead. Think of the people here, who need you now.”

Ahriman did not respond, opting instead to return to his workstation and continue tinkering with his bombs in a vain attempt to clear his thoughts. Logan stood their gormlessly, expecting a response from his dejected comrade, but none came. He stormed out of the room in a huff, no doubt to run marksmanship drill with the civilians or other such nonsense.

As rats came scurrying back into the room after the slamming of the door, Ahriman thought about his future for the first time in a very long time.

They had a much better shot at defeating Novoselic than he would care to admit. Despite their lack of support from anyone outside the city, it could still be turned into a fortress with the proper care. After all, the capital city of such a large nation had no shortage of weaponry and equipment, it was just a matter of putting it to good use.

What was stopping him from giving this battle his all was the ramifications of the hypothetical victory. If Sonia were to be driven back to her palace with her tail between her legs, no one would be able to lay a finger on Mukuro. She was an utter void of charisma that constantly put her foot in her mouth every time negotiations were needed, but an organization dedicated to peacekeeping would no doubt find uses for the best of Fenrir’s fangs regardless of her crimes. The thought of that vile traitor going down in history as a hero made Ahriman’s blood boil and his knuckles turn white with rage.

He jumped slightly in surprise as the soft cooing of a pigeon echoed through the room, causing him to drop his tools on the floor. He looked up to see the bird sitting on the open windowsill, its ornate plumage reflecting the light of the setting sun in a dazzling manner. It flew over to Ahriman in a short burst of flight and outstretched one of its feet to him, revealing a note tied to it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing 77th class as remnants of despair was kind of a difficult process cause outside of nagito i couldn't find any canon info on how they behaved as despairs. I think I'm on to something with this though, cause I think flipping their positive aspects on their heads kind of worked (sonia going from being humble and kind to being obsessed with power, gundham never speaking and losing his hamsters out of nowhere, mahiru becoming cowardly and submissive), but what do you guys think?  
> Also, bad news, real life stuff has been getting more time intensive lately so updates are probably going to slow down.  
> but not stop dont worry bbs


	9. INTERLUDE: Carolus Regina, Pt. II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The armies of Novoselic arrive in Moscow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (deleted and reuploaded cause i accidentally set the upload date for the 12th when i first made the draft)
> 
> tw for graphic violence and animal death
> 
> holy FUCK this ended up being a lot longer than i planned  
> but i still got it out ahead of schedule :D

It was Mahiru’s duty to her lord and love to use her talent (for what little it was worth) to spread the majestic despair of Sonia Nevermind to the world. As grateful as she was to be serving alongside the majesty of the queen of Novoselic, it didn’t change the fact that these ride to and from battlefields were long and awkward affairs due to lack of conversation. She initially used these periods of silence to wonder why Sonia insisted on being at such dangerous locations in person, but it was not her place to question the will of her queen. It’s not like she could just talk to Sonia, after all. They may have professed their love for one another, but Sonia was still her ruler, and Mahiru would not dream of speaking out of line.

Gundham certainly didn’t help the awkward silence with his new stoicism. He probably thought it was cool or something, like how he always said that weird stuff about angels and demons during their time in school. Whatever his reasoning, he said nothing, no matter the provocation. Yet somehow, he had earned a seat at Sonia’s hand alongside Mahiru. The queen’s word was absolute, but that did not mean it was not confusing.

Thus, the only thing that Mahiru would hear during these long rides from one warzone to another was the dull background noise armored transport vehicle that had been decorated by the three of them to the point of being a second home. As she stared at a picture of their class she kept in her pocket, she contemplated how far she’d come since she first enrolled in Hope’s Peak. She looked at that starry eyed teenager in her first year of highschool and wondered whether or not that girl had the faintest idea of where she would be in two years.

Her gaze locked on the visage of Fuyuhiko and tears welled up, though she never allowed them to surface for fear of disturbing her queen.

She and her classmates had gone nowhere but downhill since the day Sato died.

Her classmates tended to pin the blame for their situation on Junko which was, while entirely deserved, far more absolute than the truth.

They all knew he did it, and that knowledge tore the class apart. Her classmates didn’t necessarily cower in fear around Fuyuhiko, but they would always stiffen up a little whenever he walked in the room. They would pause whatever they were doing, staring at him like they were waiting to have their picture taken.

And every time, he and his lapdog would stare her down until she wilted and looked away. That part never took more than a second. Once, she was too afraid of what he would do to her to get revenge for her friend. However, she no longer cared about her own life enough to fear such things.

Perhaps returning to Japan would do more good for Mahiru than she initially thought.

Gundham stood up, bumps in the road be damned. He wordlessly moved to the front of the vehicle and pounded on the door to the driver’s cabin with his fist twice, signaling the vehicle to stop.

“Seriously!?” Mahiru exclaimed, as they all jerked forward somewhat once the vehicle came to a complete stop. “This is, like, the third time you’ve made us stop in the middle of nowhere!”

He pulled a pen out of his pocket and opened the door, heedless of his companion’s words. The breeze that came in, while not exactly a biting cold, was still too chilly for Mahiru’s liking. The door creaked shut, and Mahiru was left alone with Sonia.

This was as good of a time as any to ask just what it was that made Gundham so indispensable to her.

“Not to question your wisdom, your highness, but why is he allowed to keep doing that?” Mahiru couldn’t even keep eye contact. “Doesn’t this slow our advance on Moscow?”

“Do not worry, the amount of time actually lost on this is a trivial concern.”

How gracious of her to not behave as though the question were a personal insult.

Silence fell over them as the time that was lost to this excursion became less and less trivial.

Mahiru gulped in fear as Sonia tapped her foot impatiently.

Sonia motioned toward the door, and Mahiru shot out of her seat, eager to please. She held it open for Sonia to step out and they both stared quizzically as Gundham attached a letter to a pigeon which flew off as soon as he was done. Without acknowledging the presence of the two girls, he walked back towards the vehicle.

“And just what was that all about?” Sonia asked. That thing she did with her voice where she was audibly holding back anger was honestly scarier than the anger itself. It was like a dam ready to burst at any moment.

Gundham said nothing, as he always did. However, he did stop in his tracks upon hearing the tone in Sonia’s voice. He turned his gaze to the ground as Sonia approached him.

“Well?” She asked, bringing her face inches away from his. “What reason could you possibly have for wasting our time like that?”

The soldier driving the vehicle got out and stood by his queen’s side upon seeing her standing around.

Still refusing to speak, he kneeled in front of Sonia, presumably as an attempt to apologize.

Sonia motioned for the driver to come closer to her and took his rifle out of his hands before he could even request what she needed. She changed her grip on it to hold it like a club and drove it directly into the animal breeder’s jaw, knocking him on the ground.

Like the flash from a camera, her anger always came out in brief yet incredibly powerful bouts.

“Answer me, you little shit!” Sonia shouted as she brought her foot to Gundham’s face, her anger no longer held back by the regal façade. When she stepped away, he got up to bow in front of her once more.

Nothing could break his vow of silence, not even the wrath of Sonia Nevermind.

“You really are hopeless.” Sonia remarked with a heavy sigh. She turned to Gundham as if that would be the remark that would get him to speak, but the only thing he did was wipe away the blood that trickled down his lip.

“Fortunately, that is the very reason for our existence!” The queen’s tone changed in an instant. She thrust the rifle back into the soldier’s arms and moved back towards the vehicle.

“Now, sally forth! Moscow awaits! We can still make it there by nightfall!” Sonia exclaimed as she raised a hand in the air triumphantly. “Those meaningless dregs who ran ahead of us will surely have whittled the defenders down by the time we arrive.”

* * *

Shinobu had really only read reports on the cultural anomaly that seemed to follow Sonia around, for what little good such things often were. She assumed it was going to be something similar to the offshoots of Ultimate Despair she had the displeasure of encountering in Japan before coming here; a glorified band of looters that were easily dispersed when confronted with organized force. Opportunistic raiders were certainly common in recent times, but they seldom held any actual loyalty to the warped ideals of the Ultimate Despair. This lack of motive tended to make them indistinguishable from any other form of criminals, save for their numbers and frequency.

However, this prelude to the arrival of the actual Nevermind army could more accurately be described as a tide of flesh.

Thousands of individuals clad in patchwork clothing crudely fashioned after that damn bear that seemed to be everywhere these days stampeded into the city, caring for their own miserable lives no more than the ones they ended in their mindless rampage. Few of them actually had weapons, but they counteracted this weakness by simply picking up the weapons of their dead comrades and continuing where they left off. They dropped like flies as they charged the firing lines of city’s defenses, but they were about as numerous as the creatures as well.

The lines would hold, but this hoard was draining their ammunition at a frightening rate. It was all Shinobu could do to give orders to those on the front lines from the impromptu command center she had set up in Logan’s house.

Not that Logan cared; he simply charged into their ranks, axe and pistol in hand. He didn’t fight them so much as he waded through them. To someone of his skill they were little more than a foul pest clinging to his legs, indistinguishable from the rodents that plagued the city.

As Shinobu watched his progress through cameras she and Ahriman had set up throughout the city in preparation for this event, she began to understand just why it was these two came at such a price. Even outside of Logan’s prowess in combat, he served as a beacon for the beleaguered defenders that bolstered their morale with his vary presence. Every triumphant pose he struck caused the citizens to fight just a little harder, and every kill he scored pushed the front lines just a little farther back.

She swat a rat off of her desk as she turned on her radio to get into contact with mercenary who insisted to be paid for this.

“Ahriman, come in.”

Silence.

Static.

“ _-he still not responded to you_?”

Logan’s breathing was beginning to turn ragged, but the fact that he still cared enough to maintain his composure was a good sign. With how long he had been out there, it was a miracle the man was still standing. Fenrir’s reputation was clearly well earned.

“Negative.” She responded. “He left to go check on the train station an hour ago, and I haven’t seen him since.”

“ _Have you tried the cameras_?”

“Of course, I did!” Shinobu snapped. “He’s not anywhere on the system as far as I can see.”

“Because you were too busy watching Logan wade his way through those pests.” Ahriman chided as he stepped through the door, rats scurrying away from his feet with every step. “I told where I was going, why are you so concerned?”

“Because you weren’t responding to us!” She retorted in a voice laden with annoyance. “For all we knew, you could have been dead.”

“ _Everyone, get down_!”

Logan’s warning went unheeded.

“Then you clearly don’t know enough.” He responded as he wiped blood from a cut on his cheek. Before Shinobu could acknowledge this injury, he turned back around to walk out.

“Their actual military will be arriving soon, and I had to make sure our contingency plan would work in the event of our failure.”

“Why would you bother with that!?” Shinobu was wondering why she hired this man in the first place. “We wouldn’t need that stupid contingency if you would just-“

The earth trembled. Rats scurried into their newly made burrows in the walls of Logan’s house, and both Ahriman and Shinobu struggled to stay on their feet.

Shinobu looked out the window to see explosions line the horizon and an aircraft flying away as fast as it must have approached. The air cracked like a whip as the craft reached supersonic speeds. She turned to her cameras and stared on in horror as the devices that were still functional painted a bleak portrait of their front lines reduced to craters and ash. The dead and injured were strewn about on top of each other, their bodies forming miniature lakes of gore at inside the hundreds of craters across the streets.

They lost no small number of defenders, but a grim sort of guilt overcame Shinobu as she realized she was just grateful to see that the number of the enemy’s dead vastly outmatched their own. The fools had broken the back of their own first wave.

Static filled the coms chatter; the drowned out voices of an untold number of militia leaders attempting to reorganize themselves.

Eventually, one of them came in far louder than the rest, his words inter-cut with fits of coughing up smoke.

“ _Can anyone hear me?_ ”

“Logan?” What Shinobu had initially believed was relief in Ahriman’s voice was most likely disbelief.

“ _Don’t sound so disappointed, old friend. I’m not going down that easily_.” Logan’s breathing got steadier by the second.

“Are you okay?” Shinobu asked when she recovered from all that had happened in the last 5 minutes.

“ _Not the worst thing I’ve survived. My ears are still ringing though…_ ”

“And our forces?” Ahriman wasted no time assessing the situation. “Can we still hold the front lines where they are?”

“ _Negative, too many of our defensive structures have been destroyed. We’re regrouping and falling back as we speak._ ”

Ahriman returned to attempting to leave, but Shinobu’s incessant nagging once again caused him to halt.

“Where do you think you’re going?! They need you out there!”

“Like I said,” He responded without turning away. “Their army is on the way, and I need to ensure this little contingency is ready.” He stopped before closing the door.

“It should be clear now what they’re capable of.”

* * *

Theoretically, the avenger drone could have been piloted from anywhere within a 500 mile radius of the drone itself; American military engineering was excessive like that. Yet Sonia Nevermind, in her infinite wisdom, insisted that she be as close to the drone’s physical location as possible. So close, in fact, that she felt the ground tremble with that little strafing run. The queen snapped her fingers, and the various tactical displays and live camera feeds from the drone shut off.

For a moment she amused herself by imagining the drone simply shutting off and that fifteen million dollars of tithes taken from her new subjects crashing to the ground in the middle of nowhere, but she looked to the left and saw one of the many masked aides finishing the job of landing it, and the illusion was broken.

“How goes the incursion?” She asked no one in particular, knowing someone would answer.

“Our forces are advancing slower than expected, your majesty.” Some nameless aid in a mask responded on cue. They all wore the same mask depicting none other than Monokuma. Sonia didn’t give them the privilege of showing their faces to her, lest they get any ideas about being her equal.

“And why is that?” She demanded in her usual elegant tone.

He hesitated for a moment before responding. “Their defenses are far more organized than we had been led to believe. If I may suggest-“

“You may not.” Her tone brokered no room for argument.

“You mean to suggest that I should continue to use the drone to be done with this attack as soon as possible, yes?”

He nodded solemnly in response.

“How elementary! We need as much of this city’s populace and property undamaged as possible!”

“May I ask what for, your highness?” That he had the gall he had to question her was astounding.

“Just what do you think my answer to that will be?”

He shrunk back in response. In truth, her only reason for insisting that foot soldiers (how wonderful it would have been to use those monochromatic machines that her stalker was so fond of) were to carry out the bulk of the assault was solely due to her desire to able to pillage and maim the city and its people as she pleased, but explaining that to this filth would have invited more questioning of her judgement. She was not feeling generous enough to humor additional doubts.

“And I take it there’s still no sign of Gundham?” Sonia slouched back into her chair and spun around idly, unsure what to do with herself.

He shook his head. “I apologize for my lack of good news, your highness.”

“I suppose there’s nothing to be done about it.” She sighed out. “Leaving without a trace, even with all those animals gone…”

There was nothing to be gained by dwelling on the subject of that recluse. “What of Mahiru? Is she still in the transport vehicle?” 

“Correct, your highness. An incredible use of your intuition, as always.”

Silence fell over the pair for a moment.

“Would you be as kind as to absolve me of my ignorance, your highness?” The creature asked with a bow.

“Only once.” This thing was far too inquisitive for Sonia’s liking.

“Why do you allow them such freedom of movement? Should their talents be used against us, it would be disastrous for your majesty’s rule.”

Such a moronic question.

“That is only if they should choose to betray me.” Sonia reminded him. “Something like that would never happen.”

“Why is that, your highness?” He asked. The poor thing flinched back upon realizing his mistake.

Sonia snapped her fingers, and the soldier standing by the door put a bullet in the thing’s head before he even had time to turn around.

He had only been allowed one question.

The answer to his final question was so obvious that it was laughable he spent his last breath on it. The very notion of her lovers acting against her interests was as ridiculous as the notion of a dog betraying its owner. Regardless of how much she beat those dumb animals, they would never-

Sonia reminded herself of what happened to Junko after she became too complacent with her tools.

Perhaps putting those two on leashes of some kind was necessary.

Admittedly, the masks that all of her staff wore came with the downside of being unable to tell them apart. It was possible she had just killed some important military advisor or espionage ringleader. Perhaps the despair of losing such a valuable asset would alleviate the pain that came with the poor news regarding the assault.

* * *

That “ _Tace”_ individual was supposed to meet him here on the northern outskirts of town, but Ahriman had been waiting for twenty minutes now with no sign of any mysterious interlopers. His only company was the rats, but at least there was plenty of them. They practically formed a river at his feet with the way they scurried around him. He long since gave up on keeping them off him, his every kick simply making it harder to place his foot back down without stomping on one of the things and getting their viscera on his boots.

“ _Tace_ ” called for a parley with any important defenders of the city, though it was anyone’s guess as to why. The messages that came to him from the pigeon (a bizarre communication method, but it was undeniably secure) never stated a motive for this meeting, only a location. Ahriman was no Logan or Mukuro when it came to actual combat prowess, but he was confident enough to fight off any potential assailants in the event of this being some sort of ambush.

Finally, a figure turned the corner of a ruined building.

His monochromatic hair being slicked back into some sort of pointed mullet would have otherwise been an amusing hairstyle were it not for the rest of his appearance. His eyes were discolored due to what Ahriman presumed to be colored contacts, but the thing about them that carried weight was the look of them. This stranger couldn’t be older than twenty, yet the aura he exuded suggested he’d seen horrors beyond the comprehension of any of Fenrir’s fangs.

However, the truly intimidating thing about the stranger's appearance was the trio of hounds held back by the chain in his hands. They were beings of muscle and hatred that went up past the stranger’s waist, even hunched as they were at the moment. With their mouths foaming and jaws gnashing, they did more than enough to make up for how nonthreatening their black and white colored fur would have made them otherwise.

“Are you Tace?” Ahriman asked.

No response.

Rather appropriate, considering the pseudonym this man gave himself.

Ahriman sighed in attempt to ease his fears, but such a task was nigh impossible with those hellhounds staring him down and sizing him up.

“Alright, let’s assume you are.”

No response.

The silence was deafening.

“I’m assuming you called me here thinking I would be some spineless bureaucrat that your dogs could tear apart.” With these words, Ahriman removed the glove from his left hand to reveal the mark of the wolf emblazoned upon it.

No response.

With how young the stranger was, it was possible that the symbol held no meaning to him. Yet another reminder of all that Mukuro had taken from him. Though with this reminder of his past, another possibility entered his mind.

“Or perhaps you know exactly who I am.” He finished his own thought out loud. “You’re with Sonia and those “Ultimate Despair” terrorists, right? Why risk yourself like this?”

No response.

An epiphany.

“You seek revenge against Mukuro for betraying you.” It should have been obvious that the conquest of an entire continent would be the means to an end for the likes of Sonia Nevermind.

No response.

None was needed.

“Our goals are the same.” Ahriman voiced his realization out loud.

No response.

The rest of the conversation carried itself.

“If Logan is out of the picture, I can deliver Shinobu to your hands.” Perhaps being betrayed once more would make that naïve fool understand the importance of revenge. “He’s playing hero on the western front right now; it shouldn’t be too hard to get the drop on him.”

No response.

The stranger walked away the same way he came, his hounds dragged behind him with a yank of the chain.

To Ahriman’s surprise, the sea of rats at his feet followed them.

* * *

Gunshots raced through the air around Logan, all of them missing their mark. He wasn’t necessarily faster than a speeding bullet, but he didn’t need to be. It was enough to be able to outpace the enemy’s reflexes. Rats were crushed under his feet as he sprinted to the lines of the monochromatic soldiers.

He reached the group of five that were hiding in a hollowed out store of some kind. His axe was in the skull of the first one before she even had a chance to draw her knife. The second one turned his weapon toward him, but Logan knocked it out of his hands with a blow from the blunt end of his axe before finishing him off with his pistol. The third soldier took aim, but Logan was faster to the draw. He let his axe loose from his hands and it landed straight in the fourth soldier’s chest, she stumbled back and fell over clawing at her ribcage as though it would remove the blood pouring into her lungs.

A gunshot rang out from behind Logan, and the fifth soldier’s lifeless corpse fell against his back, the combat knife they had been holding falling harmlessly out of their hands.

Logan didn’t have the faintest clue why Ahriman had been so concerned about this; this was far and away the most effective civilian militia he had ever worked with.

Rats poured out of the walls of the abandoned building. Such events were commonplace immediately after a fight ended. Logan did his best to ignore the sight of the vermin feasting on the dead or those who were simply too injured to fight them off.

He tore the axe out of the dead woman’s chest with a wet sliding sound and looked to the beleaguered defenders behind him. Those among them that still bothered to stand up straight only did so with visible pain. They could hold out for a few more days, but the fact that there was talk of surrender after only three days of fighting was a bad sign.

He considered giving yet another rousing speech to keep their spirits up, but his own breath was far too ragged for such theatrics. His exhaustion did not come from the fight being to difficult, but simply from being too long. He was wading through their ranks compared to his conscripted comrades, but the enemy’s forces still clung to his knees and slowed him down.

More of the invaders turned the corner with a synchronized thundering of combat boots. Logan counted eight of them before ducking back into the abandoned shop. Bullets flew in both directions as the two forces exchanged fire. Logan exited the building through the back in an attempt to ambush his assailants. Curiously enough, the rats followed him out the door.

He stopped in his tracks.

A boy no older than twenty with slicked back hair sauntered down the street, hands in his pockets as though he wasn’t in the middle of a warzone. His mouth was covered by a tattered purple scarf, and his multi-colored eyes shone with a level malice Logan had never seen in all his days.

The invaders paid him no heed as they continued their skirmish with Logan’s forces.

Boy or not, the killing intent in his eyes was obvious. Logan raised his pistol.

The boy brought a bandaged hand to his lips and let out a whistle that echoed endlessly through the streets, even overcoming the various firefights that plagued them.

Logan felt a searing pain go through his ankle and he felt blood trickle down to his heel.

The sounds of gunfire were soon replaced with screams as the citizens of Moscow were overcome by the waves of rodents.

Logan brought his hand to his ankle and pulled a rat off of him, though two more latched on his arm in the process.

He had to get closer to the stranger. Perhaps killing him would break the back of this new assault.

That assumption had no grounds to it other than Logan’s hopes, but he had little else at the moment.

Running as fast as he could to outpace the tide of rodents descending upon him, he once more brought up his pistol. More rats climbed on top of him and gnawed at his hand, causing it to contort in pain until he dropped the weapon. The boy once again lifted his hand to whistle, and a trio of hounds whose bodies went past the boy’s waste sped past him and sprinted toward Logan, the foam at their mouths dripping to the ground with every step.

Out of options and with the hounds just meters away from him, Logan let his hatchet fly through the air towards the boy. One of the beasts leapt into the air in front of the boy, causing the hatchet to embed itself deep into its chest. The boy wordlessly stepped over the creature as it gasped for air and vomited blood and wretched the hatchet out of it.

As he tried to run toward the corpse of the mutt, one the other dogs bit into his calf hard, causing him to cry out in pain. He fell flat on his face.

“ _Duty is its own reward_.”

Logan couldn’t remember when he’d first heard those words, but they were repeated to him on a daily basis during his time in Fenrir. It was supposed to be a comfort to those who died without accomplishing their objective, but it had always sounded condescending to him.

None of that mattered. As long as Ahriman was true to his word, the Nevermind army’s victory here would be for naught.

* * *

Covered in scrapes and bite marks that would no doubt turn to pus-filled blisters soon, Shinobu ran as fast as she could to keep up with Ahriman and avoid his grip on her sweeping her off her feet. She had little time to focus on her surroundings and when she did manage to catch a glimpse of what was around her, it was all she could do not to vomit at the sight of the defenders literally drowning in tides of vermin.

Ahriman had insisted all was lost and that the railway had to be destroyed. She briefly insisted on fighting longer, but the rats saw to the crushing of her hope. While they were dangerous creatures in their own right, the truly deadly aspect of their existence was the chaos they sowed among their ranks. Any semblance of rigidity among them that Ahriman and Logan had drilled into them was shattered in an instant as the defenders were forced to fight swarms of rodents coming out of the walls as well as an actual military.

The Ultimate Despair’s methods were as unconventional as they were uncontestable.

For the briefest of moments, Shinobu wondered why they needed to be at the train station in person for this to work. After all, being so close to what was sure to be a catastrophic explosion had to be dangerous. A tug on her wrist put an end to these thoughts. Gunshots echo through the air and keep her from being focused on her questions for too long. Ahriman’s returning fire is a cacophony in her skull, preventing her from focusing on the crushing defeat before her. She couldn’t tell whether or not this was a blessing.

They turned one more street corner.

Both of them stopped in their tracks.

A few feet away from some the corpse of what must have been a terrifying hound in its life, there was the body of Logan. Whatever face he had worn to his undeserved grave was indiscernible now; the pair of hounds tearing at his flesh saw to that by ripping his cheeks and tongue from his face. As they tore his stomach open and his entrails hung from their mouths covered in the foamy saliva, Shinobu burst into tears.

None of this was supposed to happen.

Her screams of grief drew the attention of the dogs.

Ahriman was snapped out of whatever thoughts stopped him in his tracks. He spat out a curse slurred through an emotion Shinobu couldn’t quite discern and let out a burst of fire from his sidearm, killing both of the hounds.

They were slain so easily.

She looked over to the eyes of the remaining mercenary. His eyes were clouded with every emotion imaginable. He turned from her gaze and clenched his eyes to hold back tears.

None came from his eyes. He turned back to her with a steel in his eyes colder than any of the winters of this land that Logan gave his life to defend. After a deep sigh, he pulled her forward.

“We don’t have much time left. We need to get to the station.”

“But Logan-“

“Is dead.” He finished her sentence without a trace of the tempest of emotions that had overcome him just a moment ago and tightened his grip on her forearm.

“He knew the risks of being on the frontline like this.” He added, but Shinobu wasn’t sure who these words were meant for.

The rest of their run through the city was a blur. An endless parade of minuscule firefights, cries of anguish from countless civilians, and a never ending sense of dread. Shinobu realized she was marching to her fiery death on the other side of the world from where she was born and didn’t even have the energy to want to see her family one more time.

As the train tracks finally entered their sights, she wondered just what her brother would think of her upon seeing her like this.

They stopped for a moment.

Ahriman’s eyes were squeezed shut, but Shinobu was fixated on the lines of C4 dotting the tracks and the buildings.

Ahriman pulled the detonator from a pocket in his coat.

She supposed it was fitting that they would opt to die here. If they survived the destruction of Sonia’s objective, they would surely have been taken alive by the Ultimate Despair. Such a fate was not one Shinobu wanted to spend too long thinking about.

The disgraced Togami closed her eyes and waited for the death she spent the past several days screaming and kicking against.

It never came.

He threw the detonator on the floor. The mercenary turned to her with that same coldness in his eyes as when he first saw Logan’s corpse.

“I would tell you I’m sorry, but you deserve better than to be lied to in your last moments.”

A coursing, seething pain went through her shoulder as she was knocked to the ground. Shinobu brought her uninjured hand to her shoulder and felt something large sticking out of it. The din of combat boots hitting concrete signaled the arrival of an endless stream of soldiers from Sonia’s army.

A boot came down on her back, and the hatchet was pulled out of her. Blood spurt out of the wound with a sickly noise as Shinobu watched a man who seemed to have heterochromia twist the hatchet that she recognized as Logan’s in his hands idly. That same boot kicked her to flip her onto her back, and she let out some pathetic mewl of pain that her body and mind could still muster together.

A red haired girl bent over to gaze into her eyes with child-like glee. She turned her head over to see Ahriman standing side by side with none other than Sonia Nevermind.

She realized what was happening, and tears once again blocked her sight.

The flash of a camera filled her vision even through her tears, and the red haired girl ran over to Sonia with a camera in hand. Sonia smiled with a mix of glee and contempt as she nodded in approval at its contents and spirals formed in her eyes.

The eyes of those who can feed on misery.

Ahriman raised his hands as he began to say something to Shinobu. She snapped her fingers and a soldier fired at him, puncturing his gut with lead. Ahriman reached for his pistol, but the one in the scarf drove Logan’s hatchet directly into his skull. As the traitor’s lifeless corpse fell back and his brains coated the floor, a pair of soldiers hoisted Shinobu up by her shoulders and began to drag her away.

* * *

Sonia couldn’t quite tell what sort of establishment this building used to be. With the ornate furniture, this had to have been the house of a particularly wealthy individual, though just who it belonged to was anyone’s guess. As the impromptu command center the rebels built here was disassembled, she gazed at the walls of its office, which were adorned in memorabilia of all kind and pictures almost always featuring a large man with dark skin.

Despite the wonderful outcome of the day, Mahiru seemed hesitant to express her despairful glee.

“What bothers you, my love?”

“It’s just…” She hesitated as she scratched her cheek. This was going to be yet another judgement of her infinite wisdom.

“Was it really a good idea to kill that ‘Ahriman’ guy, your highness? I mean, someone from that same mercenary group as Mukuro would probably have been really useful.”

As expected.

“His death was inevitable.” Sonia explained. “Moscow would have taken weeks to break without his aide, but he was a traitor. If he would betray Shinobu so readily, how can we know he would not have betrayed us as well?”

“Ah, of course, your highness!” She exclaimed with a bow. “Your foresight is unmatched as always.”

In truth, that mercenary was meant to serve as an example to her and Gundham. She would not tolerate insubordination, regardless of one’s usefulness or closeness to her highness. It seemed to have worked, but she could never be too sure.

She turned her gaze to Gundham, who leaned against the wall on the far end of the room with the hatchet holstered on to his waist.

“Surely you of all people should be rejoicing right now.” She remarked. “Are you not excited by the prospect of putting down that leashless dog who never learned her place?”

No response.

None of them really expected him to talk at this point; it was more for Sonia’s amusement than anything else.

“Well, no matter.” The queen asserted. “If that doesn’t work, I’m sure that a class reunion would lift your spirits!”

Mahiru flinched at these words. It was unsurprising, but she still should have had the decency not to show her distaste for her queen’s plans so easily. Truth be told, she wasn’t looking forward to working with those dregs any more than her concubine, but their value as tools could not be ignored.

“It’s not that I think this is a bad idea, your highness.” Mahiru must have realized how easy she was to read. She was obviously lying, but if she had another point than Sonia wanted to hear it. “I just don’t know how we’re supposed to get them all together. I mean, The Imposter alone-“

“Do not worry about that!” Sonia reassured her with an outstretched arm which Mahiru took without a second thought. “After all, The Imposter is already doing my bidding, and Future Foundation is none the wiser.”

Mahiru gasped and stars lit up in her eyes. If Sonia were any other person, her statement would have elicited some token expression of disbelief. However, they both knew this campaign had faced her with enough of those to last her a lifetime.

“T-That’s amazing!” Mahiru exclaimed. “I should have expected nothing less from you, your majesty.”

“Indeed, you should have.” She responded with a smile.

A knock on the door marked the end of the conversation and a masked servant stepped in and bowed before Sonia.

“Everything is ready, your majesty.” She said.

“Perfect!” Sonia turned to her concubines. “Stay here, both of you. My new subjects must hear from their queen.” She didn’t wait for a response before walking out.

She stepped out of the residence to a makeshift stage constructed by the various menials she’d brought along with her to the city. Beside the podium upon which Sonia was to give her speech, Shinobu clawed at the noose on her neck as though it would set her free. Sonia glared at the soldier next her, and he bound the woman’s hands. She looked to the unwashed masses that had been forced to gather before her splendor and sneered before beginning her speech. Cameras set up by Mahiru recorded the whole thing, for it was only natural that news of her expanding dominion be told throughout the world.

Sonia gave an absolutely meaningless speech about the glory of the Nevermind family and how despair would soon rule the world. She knew it was a waste of time. The citizens of Moscow knew it was a waste of time. They all knew it was a waste of time. The point was to demonstrate to them that whenever Sonia Nevermind spoke, the world would listen.

The only part she actually cared to remember was the end of it; the fun part.

“Resistance is meaningless.” She summarized as she put on that same smile that had made her the pride of her class in Hope’s Peak.

“Though, if any of you wish to court my favor by amusing me…”

She snapped her fingers, and the floor gave out from under Shinobu. The sound of her neck snapping caused everyone watching to stiffen up just a little.

Sonia couldn’t help but wonder why her family stopped doing public executions hundreds of years ago when they were this enjoyable.

“Then, by all means, resist.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and on that note lets go back to mukuro's boy problems :3
> 
> anyways while I'm overall pretty confident in this chapter, im still not that experienced in writing fight scenes, so what do you guys think of it?


	10. Forseti Passes Judgement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mukuro and Makoto are both approached by other members of Future Foundation with unconventional challenges to their beliefs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to take so long in between chapters only to have this one be shorter than usual ;-; as an apology for both of these i went back and edited the previous chapters to improve the writing somewhat. most of it is just changes in phrasing, but I did change the plot by removing the reference to Junko's severed arm in chapter seven cause it doesn't really fit the theme I've established in previous chapters
> 
> anyways a big part of the reason this is shorter than usual is cause I didnt wanna take focus away from Mukuro & Makoto

Mukuro twirled her thumbs and stared at her lap in a fruitless attempt to avoid clarifying what she had just admitted. It was already arduous to speak of her ever-expanding list of traumas, and the animated stuffed bunny staring her down only made the whole affair that much more difficult to process. As she shifted to laying on her side on the couch in Miaya’s office, her newly appointed therapist continued her questioning.

“And why is it that you think Junko still controls your actions?” Usami asked as she twirled her magic staff around. Mukuro couldn’t help but stare at Miaya whenever these animations played in the hopes of finding out how she controlled them.

When Mukuro had said that, she’d meant it strictly in a practical sense. After all, Junko was far and away the most intelligent person Mukuro had ever met. Beneath that ditzy, airheaded persona of an eccentric fashionista was a thinking machine without compare, always calculating the most efficient path to despair with a single-minded drive that made her far more robotic than her sister had ever been.

The fact that she’d admitted this fear in front of Miaya was a mistake, one that she’d been careful enough to not make in front of anyone else, not even Makoto. Yet the title of the ultimate therapist was clearly well earned, if this conversation was anything to go by. That adorable little bunny rabbit had opened up her psyche like some sort of cadaver and poked and prodded at it to get her to say whatever she thought would make Mukuro feel better.

“I don’t mean that the way you think I do.” She clarified as she began twirling her thumbs again. “I mean that I’m worried her own death may have somehow been a part of her quest for despair.”

“And what makes you think that?” The keyboard behind that monitor began clacking with the sound of notes being taken.

“If you’re trying to write that I’m paranoid, stop it.” Mukuro demanded, the trance that this conversation with Miaya had lulled her into having been broken by the sound of the keyboard.

“W-Why would you think I was doing that?” Usami covered her ears in shame as tears poured out of her eyes.

“Because none of you know Junko like I did. My point is that she was smart enough to orchestrate The Tragedy, so she most likely has a backup plan for her own death.”

She paused for a moment.

“Assuming this wasn’t her plan to begin with.”

* * *

“Oh,” Makoto could do little to hide the surprise in his voice. “Mondo, I didn’t expect to see you here.”

“Somethin’ wrong with that?” The biker asked as he sat up on the couch next to Chihiro. Mondo was good about keeping the worst of his aggressions in check when around his classmates, but it still came through during times of intense emotion.

“Mondo, it’s alright, really.” Chihiro reassured him as he motioned for Makoto to come into his room and close the door behind him. “We may not see each other as much anymore, but he’s still our friend.”

Upon closing the door behind him, Makoto was suddenly at a loss for what to say. He sat down on one of the seats Chihiro offered to him and was silent as he tried to find out how to start such a bizarre conversation.

“So, Makoto…” Mondo finally spoke up after watching the other two stare into space out of nervousness. “I… heard you and Mukuro had a bit of a scrap, yeah?”

“Mondo…” Chihiro whined as he looked toward the dejected Makoto in front of them.

“C’mon, I’m just askin.” Mondo reassured him. “Besides, if it was something serious, I bet the ultimate fuckin’ soldier wouldn’t have let him walk away without a scratch!” He laughed at his own joke in an attempt to lighten the mood, but this only served to incite Chihiro’s ire and make Makoto shrink further into his own seat. The biker took a second to read the room before muttering out an awkward apology.

“That fight was actually part of the reason that I came here.” Makoto clarified once Mondo had settled back into silence.

“Oh, you want relationship advice?” Chihiro asked. “I wish we could help, but Mondo and I don’t get into fights all that often.”

“Most of the time, it’s my fault anyway.” Mondo croaked out as he scratched the back of his head.

“Well, like I said, my problems with Mukuro are only part of the reason I came here.”

“Wait, lemme guess.” Mondo’s interjection caused Makoto to jump slightly. “You wanna use some problem in these new jobs of ours as a way of talking about your girlfriend, right?”

“Uhm, kind of?” Makoto answered as he scratched his cheek. “It’s complicated.”

“Dammit.” The biker spat. “Thought I was onto somethin’. Big bro always used to make me do that.”

“So, what is it you want to talk about?” Chihiro asked.

“Well, you know how some of the members of Ultimate Despair used to be our upperclassmen at Hope’s Peak?”

* * *

Mukuro was too involved in the conversation to continue laying down on that soft, feathery couch that seemed to be swallowing her whole as the conversation went on. She was sitting upright now, glaring at that rabbit with a stare that had made lesser men capitulate. Unfortunately, Usami was just an image on a screen and could not actually be intimidated.

“I understand your concerns about your sister, but like I said when you first walked in, let’s leave work at the door, okay? This session is about you! Love love for you!” With these last words, Usami spread her stubby arms and hearts flew across the screen. Miaya still gave no indication as to how she controlled these animations.

“Then why do you keep asking about her?” Mukuro was sick to death of every conversation she had in this building being laced with ulterior motives. “You invited me here because I mentioned being nervous about what’s going to happen in Towa, and I want to make sure my emotions don’t get in the way while I’m there. Why bring her up?”

“Hm? Isn’t it obvious?” A question mark appeared over Usami’s head before she continued. “When you were still a soldier, did anyone ever tell you about post-traumatic stress disorder?”

It was a natural line of questioning, but it was one Mukuro was sick of regardless.

“I don’t regret what I did to her.” Mukuro snapped. “Everyone’s told me over and over that I did the right thing, and I know it. Why do you people keep bringing it up?!”

“That’s not what I asked.” Usami’s tone had become startlingly assertive, though she struck a criminally adorable pose before continuing. “I wanted to know if you were aware of the common symptoms of PTSD.”

“Changes in mood, avoidances of triggers, and changes in reactivity. I’ve probably seen it take more lives than you have.”

“You listed the requirements! Yippee!” Usami exclaimed with a twirl, causing rainbows to appear beneath her feet.

“So we both know enough about it to know I don’t meet the requirements to be diagnosed.” Mukuro finished her thought.

“Well,” Usami’s voice trailed off as she kicked the bright green grass beneath her with her stubby cartoon feet. “Technically speaking, that’s correct, but you’re still exhibiting some very worrying behaviors!”

“Like what?” The soldier groaned out.

“Let’s start by talking about why you think it’s so important that you go to Towa.”

* * *

“M-Makoto, what you’re suggesting is inhumane!” Chihiro cried as tears formed around his eyes, though he quickly dispelled him and steeled himself. “Even if you think it would give them a second lease on life, we can’t just toy with people’s minds like that!”

“I’m not suggesting we brainwash them or something like that!” Makoto retorted as he threw his hands in front of himself defensively. “But I think that erasing their memories and allowing them to live without them might help them recover.”

“And what about all their victims!?” Mondo growled out as he leaned forward. His voice was surprisingly subdued but, that only served to frighten Makoto as he imagined the level of anger that Mondo had to be feeling for him to consider it worthy of being held back.

However, he couldn’t just give in; he would vouch for his classmates, even if they couldn’t do it for themselves.

“What about Mukuro’s victims? Should she be killed too?” Makoto asked. If they believed that the answer was yes, they certainly knew better than to say so in front of him.

Their stupefied faces filled his view for moment before Chihiro responded. “T-That’s different, she’s our friend…”

“That’s my point, though.” Makoto countered as he pointed at the program. “We know she deserves better because of how close we are to her, but none of you are willing to do the same for other members of Ultimate Despair!”

They both slunk back into the couch somewhat at Makoto’s words. All things considered, having gotten this far in convincing them was an achievement in and of itself.

* * *

“Come on, Mukuro, you won’t even humor me for just a second?” Usami begged as she clasped her paws together.

“You’re going to say that I’m combative and label me unfit for duty if I don’t, aren’t you?”

Silence.

“Fine.”

The bunny jumped for joy upon hearing these words. With a twirl of her magic staff, she continued.

“Now we all know you’ll be deployed at Towa with other soldiers from Future Foundation. However, if you weren’t-“

“He’d be killed.” Mukuro finished her sentence.

“And how do you know Makoto would die?” Usami asked once her sprite had finally settled onto the ground.

“One of those Monokuma robots, a human member of Ultimate Despair…” For the first time since this session began, she let out a small laugh. Humorless as it was, it still meant she was getting slightly more comfortable.

“Knowing him, he might just trip over his own shoelaces.”

“Now, they don’t let little old me know military secrets,” Usami remarked with a pouty expression. Miaya’s face twitched as the computer voiced the line. “But I’m pretty sure there’s going to be lots of other soldiers there!”

“Your point being?” Mukuro’s mood sank as she cursed the thought of leaving Makoto’s protection in the hands of some stranger. As uncertain as their terms were at the moment, her stomach still turned at the thought of not being around him.

“Now, I know what you’re thinking.” Usami leaned forward with her staff outreached as if to tap Mukuro with it before going back to her default pose. “I’m not saying you shouldn’t worry about him. He’s going somewhere that could be dangerous, after all!”

“But you _are_ telling me I need to trust whoever will be in charge of protecting him, and that I need to stick to the assignment Juzo gave me.” Mukuro had no idea where Juzo’s unofficial orders he gave her fit into this conversation, but such questions were best saved for the actual mission.

“Well,” Usami’s voice trailed off as she brought her paw/hand/stub to her chin. “That’s one of the things I wanted you to realize.”

“Get to the point.” Mukuro snapped. Miaya was remarkably good at maintaining her unreadable face, but it cracked just a little at the ire of the ultimate soldier.

“I brought you here so we could talk about your fixation on Makoto.”

* * *

“I guess it is weird that Miaya already had a similar idea.” Makoto admitted. “But why did you refuse it when she brought it up?”

“I just couldn’t understand caring about them, after all they’ve done.” Chihiro sighed out as he sank into Mondo’s arms. “But I guess I never thought of it the way you did. If they were someone I knew, I’d be willing to do anything to get them back.”

“I mean, I still have some questions about this whole thing.” Mondo spoke up as while wrapping his arms around Chihiro. “I mean, isn’t this essentially brainwashing? You never really answered Chi’s question from earlier.”

“Well, look at it this way; you agree that we need to get them back to their old selves, right? It’s not like they’ll want to get better in their current state.”

“But isn’t that a reason to just get rid of ‘em? They know it’s wrong, but they still don’t give a shit!” Mondo countered with a level of emotional intelligence rarely seen in him. He was seldom given the credit he deserved for such things.

“True, but the class 77 that exists in the past would never condone these things.”

“I d-don’t mean to be rude, Makoto, but that’s the whole point.” Chihiro interjected. “Even if they used to be good people, but they still became what they are now, right? That makes me worried that we can’t be sure they won’t make the same mistakes again.”

“No, that’s wrong! There’s no way they will this time!” Makoto shouted. “With Junko gone, there’s no way they’ll repeat their mistakes.”

“I mean, yeah, but isn’t there a better way of finding this shit out?” Mondo voice grew rough, though those who knew him well enough could tell this was more out of confusion than anger. Mondo wasn’t an idiot, but his binary perspective on morality was a hinderance in such a conversation.

“I can’t really think of any…” The programmer in his arms admitted with a heavy heart.

“Relax, both of you.” Makoto insisted. “We’re not gonna kill them, just push them back a little bit.”

Once again, the three of them sat there in silence as they contemplated the weight of Makoto’s words.

“So can we talk about your girl problems?” Mondo asked, finally breaking the tranquility.

* * *

“So, what, I should break up with him?”

“Goodness gracious, no!” Usami exclaimed as a single massive sweat bead dripped a bit of the way down her forehead before disappearing entirely. “That would be terrible idea! Don’t end the relationship just because you got into a fight!”

Hearts flew across the screen.

“Besides, you two are super cute together!”

“Then what do you mean I’m too dependent on him?” The soldier asked as she pinched the bridge of her nose in frustration.

“I don’t necessarily mean that you need to be rid of him to be happy.” The rabbit clarified. “I just meant that you need to be mindful of how much of your self-esteem revolves around him.”

“Why shouldn’t I care about him that much? We’re dating, that’s how this works.”

“Not quite.” Usami’s retort was honestly more confusing than anything else. Mukuro felt as though she should have been offended by it but couldn’t quite figure out why. Miaya took her stunned silence as a sign to continue.

“See, when you told me about your argument with Makoto, you seemed far to focused on the parts where you wronged him.”

“But Sakura already told me that it was only partially my fault.” Mukuro’s posture sunk just a little at the reminder of her failures.

“But that didn’t seem to fully sink in.” Usami finished her thought. “You want him to approve of you so badly that you’ve completely disregarded your own beliefs just to make him happy.”

“And what else am I supposed to do with myself!?” Mukuro shouted as she stood up out of the couch. Strangely enough, Miaya didn’t respond to this outburst in any way. “I threw away everything I knew and loved for him!”

Usami, however, was incredibly animated in her fear.

“T-That’s not true!” She wrapped her stubby little hands around her head and shook in fear. The rabbit regained her composure in a matter of seconds. “I believe you killed her because you finally learned that you were your own person!”

Mukuro limply fell back onto the couch.

“You are so much more than him, Mukuro.” Usami added. “You can love someone without letting them consume your world.”

* * *

“I mean, it’s kinda dangerous, y’know?” Mondo sighed out as he ruffled Chihiro’s hair. “It’s like you’re her whole fuckin world.”

“I guess I never thought of it like that.” Makoto admitted. He was just so happy to see Mukuro make what he thought were improvements that it never occurred to him what their relationship could turn into if neither of them were careful about it.

“Like, don’t get me wrong.” The biker continued. “I know you, you’re a chill guy, you’re not gonna take advantage of her.”

His voice grew more intense. “But you’re still a man, dammit! You can’t let this shit slide.”

“So then what should I do?” The question prompted a heavy sigh from Mondo as he stared at the wall in front of him for a minute.

“Well, you gotta say sorry.” He began. Makoto was not literally taking notes, but he may as well have been from how attentively he hung onto his former classmate’s every word. “And when she apologizes for snapping at you, ya can’t let her take all the blame.”

He paused for a moment as Makoto twirled his thumbs around, neither of them sure what to do with themselves.

“But uhh, don’t make this into too big of a thing, y’know?” Mondo continued once he found the right words. “Just see if you can find some free time with her later today or something.”

“I guess that seems simple enough.” Makoto responded as he got up to leave. “Thanks for your help today, you two!”

“You’re welcome.” Chihiro responded while closing the door behind him. Part of Makoto couldn’t help but be offended by the programmer’s intense desire to get him out of the room, but he ultimately knew Chihiro couldn’t be blamed for it. Their conversation had been as sudden as it was heavy, and the poor boy was probably emotionally drained by the whole thing.

Before he could dwell on this too long, he realized just one instant too late that his left shoe was untied.

In this instant, his face was already halfway to the floor.

In the very next instant, his body was stopped after someone behind him had taken hold of the back of his hoodie.

Once he had been brought back up to his own feet, he looked up to see who had saved him and let out a heavy sigh upon realizing there was no way he could nonchalantly apologize now. For a while, Mukuro just stared at the floor to avoid looking at him, while Makoto looked up to her as he tried to find the right words.

“Look, I-“

Mukuro wrapped her arms around him with all the strength she had, though Makoto was used to this rather asphyxiating display of affection by now. Her hitched breathing indicated her state of mind at the moment better than her words ever could, after all.

“I’m so sorry, Makoto.” She murmured after what felt like an eternity of them standing there together.

“No, I’m the one who needs to be sorry.” He insisted as he stepped away from her embrace. He was pained to do so, but it was necessary to make his point. “I’m the one who couldn’t see how hard this has all been for you.”

“I still snapped at you.” She retorted, but the words were hollow and bitter in her throat. She knew she just had to accept his apology and all would be well, but the urge to prostrate herself and beg for forgiveness was overwhelming.

“And that’s okay!” He responded without hesitation. “We both made mistakes; that’s all there is to it.”

Mukuro didn’t respond, opting instead to clutch her own arms and continue looking at the floor. When she finally looked up to respond to him, her eyes were far more welcoming than they had been since that night she had first come to him with his feelings.

“I forgive you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> apologies if the rapid jumps in perspective are awkward to read, I'm experimenting with it for an idea I have for a scene later in this fic


	11. A Plea With Kvasir

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mukuro turns to Kyoko for aide out of desperation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for suicide mention at the end of the chapter.  
> This one ended up being a little shorter than I had planned as I decided to cut some ill-fitting content out of it. I put an explanation in the notes at the end.

“Come on, you remember that day, right?”

Every single one of Chisa’s words was like sandpaper being grinded directly on Mukuro’s brain.

“You were there, I was there…”

Mukuro didn’t expect her silence to actually get Chisa to go away, but she had no idea how else to react to these increasingly frequent provocations.

“You killed my favorite student…”

Sweat dripped down Mukuro’s forehead as she looked down to avoid eye contact.

“Good times, right?”

Chisa puffed her cheeks and crossed her arms at Mukuro’s continued silence.

“You’re no fun.”

“What do you even want from me?” Mukuro asked with no doubt in her mind that Chisa’s answer would be as roundabout and frustrating as always.

“Are you going to ask me that every time I talk to you?” She feigned indignation as she continued. “Isn’t it enough to want to catch up with an old friend?”

The silence from Mukuro continued.

“No wonder Junko always called you boring.” She remarked with a sigh. “You really need to work on your ‘bantering with the bad guy’ skills!”

“Don’t you have information do be falsifying?” Mukuro just wanted Chisa out of her sight, no matter the cost. These conversations were beginning to remind her just a little too much of her last moments with her sister. The soldier was doing her best to ensure that this encounter wouldn’t end the same way her confrontation with Junko did, though this was more for her own sake rather than Chisa’s.

“See!? That’s a good start!” Chisa remarked as she clasped her hands together in a burst of excitement which quickly faded. “But no, I’ve already got everything in place for my precious Kyosuke to fall into despair. It’s been pretty uneventful aside from making sure none of you idiots die on your way to that stupid city.”

“You’re… very forthcoming with all of this.” Just about everything Chisa did was unsettling, but this complete lack of self-restraint was what made her dangerous in Mukuro’s eyes. If she cared this little about how much Mukuro knew about her thought process, then there was probably very little she could actually do to stop her.

Chisa shrugged. “As long as you don’t know literally everything I’m planning, then it doesn’t really matter what you think. Even if you did, who’s Kyosuke gonna believe; You or me?”

“The division leaders-“

“That’s not what I asked.” Chisa reprimanded her with a cold, harsh voice. “If you haven’t figured it out, my Kyosuke is the one in charge here. That Tengan is just a figurehead. If he think’s I’m innocent, then I’m innocent!”

Mukuro was at a loss for words.

“See!?” Chisa pat Mukuro on the head, causing her to flinch back. “That silence is all I ask of you until you’re out of my sight.”

“Now come on!” Her tone changed in an instant as she walked toward the door. “We have a mission briefing to get to, in case you forgot!”

The deranged housekeeper left the room with a cheerful vigor in her every step, knowing Mukuro would be close behind. As she trudged along behind Chisa, the soldier contemplated ending her life right then and there, consequences be damned. These thoughts were brought to a halt by Chisa opening the door to the conference room before Mukuro gathered the courage to act on them.

Mukuro scanned the room for familiar faces, finding none with the exceptions of Sakura and Juzo. The rest of them were presumably veteran soldiers of Future Foundation, if their stone cold faces were anything to go by. Eventually, another familiar face made its way out of the into the room from another door, catching Mukuro off guard.

“You’re both late.” Kyoko remarked solemnly as she made her way to an empty seat next to the one marked for Chisa. Mukuro couldn’t help but wonder if the detective was in any position to make these remarks considering the freshly brewed cup of coffee in her hands.

“Oh, right, sorry about that!” Chisa responded without a hint of remorse in her voice. “We just had some girl talk. You know how it is.”

“I really don’t.” Kyoko responded, clearly exhausted with having to put up with these antics from Chisa on a constant basis.

“Oh well, what can you do?” Chisa sighed out as she organized a set of folders and papers that Kyoko wordlessly handed her. After neatly arranging them into identical stacks, Chisa handed them out to all the people in the room while walking around the conference table with that same energetic stride she always had.

“Now I know you’re all nervous about finally leaving this place for Towa tomorrow,” She began as she sat down at the head of the table. “So while I don’t want to be the bearer of bad news, I figure it’s important that you all know there’s been some last minute changes to your orders.”

The soldiers in the room gave no indication as to what they were feeling, though Mukuro could hazard a guess as to everyone’s nervousness upon sharing a glance of uncertainty with Sakura. Mukuro was certainly no stranger to a changing mission, but the identity of the person giving her these new orders made her feel as though she’d never been on a battlefield before.

Chisa sat back down and Kyoko stood up to deliver the information in her place. Mukuro wanted to comfort herself by reasoning that if this plan was being filtered through Kyoko, then surely the more overtly dangerous parts of it may have been omitted, but the soldier knew this was nothing more than a comforting lie.

“Up until now, the only two people who have been labeled as high priority targets for capture were Tokuichi Towa and Haiji Towa.” Kyoko explained without moving from her position behind her chair, taking a sip of coffee before continuing. “However, an anonymous source has reached out to us about a third potentially dangerous individual in Towa city.”

Kyoko motioned for everyone to open the folders she handed out moments ago, and the profile within was so off-putting Mukuro couldn’t help but be alarmed from how harmless the person seemed. The other soldiers shared looks of disbelief and the odd nervous laugh with one another, and Mukuro realized why this girl seemed so familiar.

“Is this some kind of joke?” Juzo asked with a humorless chuckle. “This girl can’t be older than ten. Why’s she so important?”

“I know why.” Mukuro rose her voice slightly to speak clearly and out of turn. For a moment, Chisa’s face lost its typical carefree façade and morphed into one of genuine surprise, but the infiltrator was quick to recover. Mukuro took a moment to appreciate this small victory before continuing.

“I never actually met Monaca,” Mukuro paused as she tried to find the right words to convince the others that she knew what she was talking about. “but Junko told me about her a few times. From what I gather, my sister had been trying to groom her for some purpose. Unfortunately, I don’t know what Junko wanted out of her.”

A dry smile fell across Kyoko’s lips after a moment of silence. “That certainly brings most of the pieces of this puzzle together.”

“So Miaya’s going to have a new patient when we get back from Towa.” Juzo interjected. “I still don’t understand why we need to know about her.”

“Which is something you would know if you hadn’t just interrupted me.” Kyoko responded without missing a beat. She took a moment to glare daggers at Juzo before continuing.

“Despite being only nine years old, she’s earned a prestigious position in the robotics department of Towa Industries due to her talents in the field. This alone isn’t enough to label her as a high priority target, but there’s some things about her that have made us suspicious.”

“What about her is so troubling?” Sakura asked as she furrowed her brow.

“Have none of you figured it out yet?” Chisa asked as she idly spun around in her chair, earning no small amount of ire from Kyoko for doing so. “Go on, look at her profile again.”

“All of these documents have different family names written on them.” One soldier remarked with suspicion in his voice.

“Exactly!” Chisa enthusiastically agreed as she pointed at the man who pointed out the inconsistency. “One year, she’s ‘Monaca Ryugu’, the next year she’s ‘Monaca Maebara’!”

“This inconsistency has made us suspicious about her origins.” Kyoko summarized. “Given that she worked her way up the ranks of Towa industries so quickly, it’s possible she may be related to the founding family. However, we don’t know this for sure, or why Monaca would choose to hide this if it is the case.”

“So you all have to be extra careful around this girl.” Chisa added. “We don’t know how devoted she is to her family name.” Chisa turned to look at Mukuro with a malice in her eyes that only the soldier could see. “And now that Mukuro has confirmed she has ties to the Ultimate Despair, we know she’s probably dangerous regardless.”

“She may be a child,” Kyoko finished her point once Chisa stopped talking. “but she’s a child with access to military grade robots. Be on your guard around her if you see her.”

“We’ll all be on our toes.” Juzo responded, his voice far more somber than when he first entered the room. “Is this meeting adjourned?”

“Sure is!” Chisa responded with that same cheery tone she always had. With a dismissive wave of her hands, she sauntered out of the room to leave the rest of the soldiers to scatter. Mukuro glanced through the profile on Monaca one last time before stopping once she realized Kyoko hadn’t left yet and was staring at her from her seat on the other side of the table.

“Do you want something?” Mukuro asked. The two of them had never really gotten along due to Mukuro’s past and the stoic nature they both shared, but the soldier long ago learned that she would always have to be the one to carry their conversations.

“Walk with me.” She responded as she made her way out of the room, forcing Mukuro to scramble to catch up to her.

Their walk through Future Foundation’s halls was quiet, almost frustratingly so. If the detective’s tone was anything to go by, then she clearly had urgent business with Mukuro. However, this silence only created more tension to add to what already existed between the two of them. Perhaps this was some attempt by Kyoko to soften her up for interrogation by putting her on edge before she even opened her mouth, but then again, the young Kirigiri had always been infamous for her stoicism.

After what Mukuro would have sworn was hours of endless identical corridors, Kyoko pulled her into what Mukuro assumed was her dorm. There certainly weren’t any identifying characteristics that made Mukuro think it belonged to the detective; quite the opposite, in fact. The room was as gray and spartan as could be.

A far cry from the soldier’s room.

“Why is Chisa so interested in you?” Kyoko asked as soon as she closed the door.

Kyoko stared her down as she awaited her answer, her mind doubtlessly overflowing with possibilities as to the nature of their relationship. Kyoko crossed her arms and Mukuro couldn’t help but imagine what answer she believed she would get for this question.

“She’s an infiltrator working with the Ultimate Despair, and she’s been pulling me aside to torment me since we arrived here.”

Judging from the shocked expression she wore as she brought her gloved hand to her mouth, she certainly had guessed the nature of their relationship incorrectly.

It didn’t take her long to recover her demeanor, though her voice was still audibly shaken.

“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised, that ‘anonymous source’ had suspicious written all over it.”

“That’s your first response?” Mukuro supposed it was good that she was remaining practical, but she couldn’t help but be insulted by Kyoko’s lack of concern for either of them.

“Just trying to get the facts straight.” Kyoko responded a little too fast. Not allowing herself to focus on how nervous she was, the detective continued her line of questioning. “Why haven’t you told anyone else about this?”

“They wouldn’t believe me. Even if they did, Kyosuke would shoot down any actual attempts to investigate her.” That was certainly Chisa’s logic as to why telling others about her was a fruitless endeavor, thought Mukuro couldn’t help but question this logic the farther she got into this conversation.

Kyoko let out a sigh as she brought her hand to her chin. “You’re probably right about that. Chisa spends too much time around him for us to trust him to help us.”

She paused for a moment.

“So how do we know Kyosuke isn’t working with her?”

“I don’t think that’s likely.” Mukuro responded, grateful that Chisa had been so insistent on taunting her for once. “She constantly tells me about how her plans revolve around Kyosuke experiencing despair, so I doubt he knows about her true nature.”

Kyoko nodded in understanding as she continued to scratch her chin.

“So all we need to do is confront the other leaders of Future Foundation with proof of her ties to Ultimate Despair, and let them ease Kyosuke into accepting the truth while we take care of Chisa.”

She made it sound so easy. Finding proof of an ideological allegiance alone would be a nightmare of a task, considering they were setting out to accuse the one who controlled the flow of information in this building (and all of Japan, if Kyosuke’s explanation of how far this organization reached its influence was to be believed).

Taking care of her, however, would most likely be an easier matter. The only real problem with that part would be the inevitable fallout from Kyosuke.

“One more question.” Said Kyoko, pulling Mukuro out of her thoughts. “Why did you actually tell me this, considering I work for Chisa? How do you know I’m not a traitor, like her?”

“Because I trust you.” Mukuro responded without hesitation. Kyoko’s eyes widened in shock at this response as she continued. “Besides, we’re all in this mess because I never had the courage to tell anyone about Junko.”

“I assure that the feeling of trust isn’t mutual.” Kyoko responded, though the look in her eyes indicated that she was rethinking this stance.

“I’d leave now, if I were you.” Kyoko added when she noticed Mukuro looked just a little to pleased with herself at Kyoko’s blushing.

“Chisa might suspect something if you and I spend too much time together.” She added, doing absolutely nothing to dissuade the notion that Mukuro had just now become her friend, despite the strenuous circumstances.

* * *

“So dad pays you a lot of money for your job, right?” Monaca asked as she held her hands in that position with her fingertips touching that she always seemed so fond of. “Why don’t you just use that money to run away somewhere that the bad guys can’t find you?”

“I dunno, why didn’t you and your little band of misfits actually go through with killing yourselves?” Haiji responded immediately.

“That’s the kind of talk that made your wife leave you.” She spat back in a tone that was subdued yet laden with resentment.

“Aren’t you gonna answer the question?” Haiji preferred not to think about his failed attempts at romance whenever he could. Some people just weren’t cut out for that stuff, after all.

For a moment, the only noise that either of them could hear was the elevator descending ever downward. The view they had of the factory along the way down was certainly impressive, with the countless array of purpose built machines tirelessly welding and nailing together the ursine droids that would soon be defending the city in full view. However, Haiji just kept staring at Monaca, waiting for a response. This wasn’t exactly a sight that he hadn’t seen a thousand times before.

“Spite.” The girl finally responded. “I wanted to spite you.”

“And it’s got nothing to do with that big sis Junko that bit the dust recently?” Haiji asked.

Monaca stretched her arms and sighed. “Well, of course! Even if she’s dead, someone has to carry on her legacy!”

“Really? It’s not like she made the world a better place.” Haiji responded.

“Well, duh! That’s the whole idea, silly.” She turned her wheelchair to face her older brother. “Besides, what right do you have to ask those questions? You wouldn’t be where you are now are without her.”

“Kid, I’ve got bills to pay.” Haiji retorted, even as the words rang hollow and bitter in his throat.

“So do all the other adults in the world.” Monaca giggled out in response.

“But I don’t remember them ever helping the apocalypse happen.”

On those words, the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened soon after. Haiji could tell from the looks on the faces of the brats in front of him that this was going to require a lot of smooth talking, though he was mostly just grateful that he no longer had to put any thought into what Monaca had just told him.

Haiji only had a moment to take in his surroundings before being accosted by his sister’s gaggle of idiots, but he was certainly surprised by what he learned in those few seconds he was allowed to focus on the area around him. This place was remarkably similar to the facility used to develop big bang Monokuma, though its walls and floor were adorned with what had to be the ugliest color pallet the prince of Towa had ever seen. Polka dots and zig-zagging stripes of every possible mismatched combination of colors adorned the room, with posters for various forms of children’s media covering what were rather obviously errors in the paintjob.

By the time he noticed that the reason for this room’s existence was in the back of it, a group of four children finally took notice of him.

“Another demon!?” The one with weird blue hair shouted, his voice cracking in indignation. “One was enough!”

Haiji ignored him, opting instead to look at the group of menacing robots in idle positions in the back of the room.

“Um, does the first one really count as a demon?” Another kid with a mask asked as he made his way up to the blue-haired one. “I mean, he’s as old as big sis Junko is, right?”

Despite their tacky designs, those things were obviously miracles of engineering.

The masked kid paused for a moment before wiping a tear away with an oversized sleeve. “Or was, I guess.”

The rocket engines on their bases, presumably being what moved them around, had to have been a nightmare to design.

“Yeah, but this one’s totally different! Look at him, he’s so ugly!” The pink haired one remarked as her lip curled in disgust.

Haiji prayed Monaca would finally step forward to put these brats in line before he did it himself, starting with the pink-haired one.

Monaca’s wheelchair moved up so she could address the group, but the sound of chains rattling made her stop and turn to another door to investigate. Questions raced through Haiji’s mind upon seeing who it was that was also down here, but the one he wanted answered most was just why this white-haired teenager had suddenly become the most important person in his life.

“Sorry to say, kids, but it seems trash like me can’t even manage to make simple cup ra-“ The boy paused once he saw Haiji. “Oh, you actually came! That’s perfect!”

“Yeah, I’m here.” He grumbled out in response.

“ _You_ invited this demon!?” The red haired shouted out as he stomped his feet. “I knew it! We can’t trust any of you demons.”

“Nope, that was Monaca's idea." Monaca interjected. “This is Monaca's big brother Haiji!”

She continued when none of them responded.

“Anyways, let’s all give a warm welcome to the newest member of the warriors of hope!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the reason this chapter is shorter than planned is because this chapter was originally going to have another session with Mukuro and Miaya, but I couldn't find a way to fit it in naturally. I still want to publish it tho so it'll probably be uploaded as a spinoff (though I can't promise when). If I like the way it turns out then it might even get turned into a mini-series but no promises on that last part.


	12. Valkyria, Heal My Wounds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miaya recieves one unlikely visitor after another, and Makoto manages to find some time to spend alone with Mukuro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for graphic (like, REALLY graphic) depictions of blood and gore in the last scene in this chapter
> 
> anyways despite the warning i promise this chapter is mostly mukuro/makoto fluff cause i decided they deserve some quality time before shit hits the fan next chapter

Kyosuke stormed out of Miaya’s office and made a note of slamming the door behind him as hard as possible. Miaya had certainly seen him angry before, but this display of emotion was like an entirely new person. Poor Chihiro was doing his best to hold back tears, but it was too much for him eventually.

It certainly hadn’t helped that the leader of Future Foundation had drawn his sword on the programmer.

When Miaya explained her plans for the Neo World Program to Kyosuke, she’d been prepared for an argument. The stress of having sent thousands of men to occupy a city to contain a threat they weren’t even sure existed had clearly taken its toll on him, and certainly hadn’t faded now that their armies had finally arrived at Towa. In addition, she knew him well enough to know that he wouldn’t like the idea; his views on the concept of redemption were rather infamous among the higher-ups of the organization.

What she hadn’t been prepared for was his reaction being so sudden and so violent. He brokered no room for negotiation with neither his words nor his actions.

She sat in stupefied silence for the longest time once Kyosuke was gone, genuinely unsure of when to talk or what to say. This wasn’t a kind of indecisiveness Miaya enjoyed feeling, and chihiro’s muffled sobs did nothing to ease her emotions.

“S-so, what do we do now?” Chihiro asked once he’d finally regained his composure. He was still shaking, but Miaya wasn’t doing better enough than him to judge him for it.

The sound of her keyboard filled the room before Usami responded to Chihiro’s inquiry, though Miaya did turn around to make sure the door was closed before continuing.

“I know what you’re thinking.” Usami responded in a voice that was far more serious than normal, though Miaya knew it was important for her avatar to match the tone of the room. “We can’t just give up on the Neo World Program!”

Chihiro sighed as he began to straighten himself in his seat.

“I know, but if we don’t have Kyosuke’s approval for this, how can we make the time for it?”

“Truth be told, I’ve actually already got some things that could be used to speed up the process left over from when Hope’s Peak was giving me funding to develop it.” Usami let out a cutesy giggle before continuing. “Besides, “borrowing” funds from the other departments is a lot easier than it sounds! Chisa doesn’t seem to pay attention to that stuff for some reason.”

Miaya was too busy typing out her response to Chihiro’s inquiry to notice that the poor boy’s eyes had grown wide in fear at the sight of the person standing behind her.

“I think if we only work on it when Kyosuke’s not looking, then in a few months-“

“You don’t have that much time.”

Such simple words, yet Miaya’s blood ran cold upon hearing them. She turned her wheelchair around to see her uninvited guest, though she had a feeling she knew who it was judging from Chihiro’s shocked expression. She stared at him with a peculiar form of awe that she had never felt in her life; like she was seeing something beautiful, yet utterly impossible. The being before her should not exist, yet it existed completely effortlessly.

He spoke up before she could even think to type out some expression of surprise.

“Yes, I am Izuru Kamukura. We need to keep this as short as possible. Time is of the essence.”

“W-what do you mean? Why is doing this fast important?” Chihiro asked in between shallow, irregular breaths. Miaya would need to teach him not to do that, but definitely not right now.

“I have made a miscalculation, and I need to go to Mukuro before she leaves Towa to fix it. The details don’t matter. What matters is that you finish the Neo World program by the time I return here.” Izuru spoke of his plans as if interrupting the ultimate soldier in the middle of her services was as simple as catching a bus to the city.

Considering the person speaking, it most likely was.

“B-But Kyosuke-“

“Will not have the time to punish you for your transgressions.” Izuru shot down every argument made against him like they were nothing more than annoying pests.

“Why do you need us to help you?” Miaya finally managed to type out. How she wished she had the confidence to actually voice her concerns, especially in such a tense moment. Izuru paid no heed to whatever adorable thing the cartoon rabbit was doing on the screen in front of him.

“Two reasons.” Izuru held up two fingers. “One, there is someone I wish to see again. If my predictions are correct, you should be able to recreate her with this program.”

As Izuru lowered one of his fingers and listed his second reason, Miaya couldn’t help but marvel that it took all of the observational skills she had learned as the ultimate therapist to finally notice after all this time that there was the slightest hint of urgency in the lab rat’s voice.

“Two, I believe I may have lost memories of something related to my miscalculation and need your help to get them back.”

* * *

“Wait a minute, really? Junko Enoshima put us in there? That chick from all the fashion magazines?” Hiroko asked before taking a long drag from a cigarette. Where she got it from was a mystery to Mukuro, considering that she had been in that completely sealed apartment until a few hours ago. The woman let out a chuckle that could not have been more devoid of humor. “Yeah, sure, fuck it. Why not?”

She turned to Kenshiro with a level of nonchalance that Mukuro couldn’t help but find off-putting, considering the circumstances that brought this trio together.

“You sure you don’t want help carrying that, big guy? You’re not looking too hot.”

Kenshiro was sweating profusely, his every step obviously an active labor. The streets of Towa, clear as they were at the moment thanks to the curfews put in place by the city’s new occupants, were not kind on his failing stamina. Despite this, the martial artist insisted on being the one to hold the carrying cage for _Grand Bois Chéri_ _Ludenburg._ That Mukuro had found all three of them in the same apartment complex was nothing short of a stroke of luck that would put her boyfriend to shame. That their time in Towa had been completely uneventful so far was something Mukuro could tell had nothing to do with luck.

Whoever her enemy was in this city, they were simply biding their time.

Mukuro snatched the cage out of Kenshiro’s hands, his “martial honor” be damned. Hiroko chuckled as the cat let out a mewl of distress upon having its cage shaken.

“I appreciate your concern, but I assure you-“

Mukuro pulled her canteen off her belt, ignoring the sight of Hiroko’s eyes widening as she saw just how much firepower the soldier had on her alongside that canteen. The combat gear she wore was no doubt unsettling to those she freed from their prisons, but it was a necessary precaution with how little she knew about the threats lying in the shadows.

He looked at the water Mukuro was offering hesitantly for a moment, but once he finally took it, he drank the whole thing without so much as a pause to breath. The soldier had seen this sort of pride kill too many people, and she wasn’t about to let it happen again.

“You have my gratitude for rescuing us, Mukuro.” Kenshiro sighed out as he handed Mukuro her canteen back. His ragged expression had yet to fade, but the gratitude in his voice was certainly genuine.

“It’s the least I could do.”

It really, truly, was the least she could do. No amount of time with Miaya could actually undo all that she had done.

They both seemed to sense the weight that Mukuro’s words held to her, judging from the brief moment of awkward silence that followed them. Unfortunately, this gave Mukuro more than enough time to focus on the scornful looks that the stragglers saying out past curfew gave her whenever they noticed the emblem of Future Foundation emblazoned on her uniform’s chest.

“Yeesh, if looks could kill…” Hiroko remarked as she observed a mother pull her children closer to her upon seeing Mukuro walking alongside them. “Did you do something to everyone in this city or what?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Mukuro closed her eyes in reminiscence and tightened her grip on her rifle with her free arm. “People tend not to like it when soldiers march into their homes and tell them what to do, that’s all.”

With neither of them knowing how to respond, silence fell over the trio once more. Rather than continuing to focus on the looks of shame that the city’s inhabitants seemed to be trying to kill her with, she opted instead to focus on the setting sun as it dipped into the water that surrounded the island. The light would soon be blocked by the body of the mainland that the island was nearest to, but for now it reflected off the water in a dazzling manner. This was one of the more scenic cities she had occupied in her (all things considered, surprisingly short) career.

“Sure is pretty, isn’t it?” Hiroko’s voice had grown awfully soft in the last thirty seconds since she last talked.

Mukuro turned around to respond once she realized she had been walking slightly faster than her new companions for a while now, but stopped dead in her tracks and nearly dropped the cat in its case as she looked on at the two of them.

“You flatter me,” Kenshiro reassured her. “But I have eyes for another.”

Hiroko unwrapped her arms from around Kenshiro with a disappointed huff, but her cool and casual façade quickly returned to her.

“I should have figured as much.” Hiroko’s dejection still leaked into her voice. “Who’s the lucky girl?”

“We’ll be meeting her in just a few minutes.” Mukuro interjected to make sure there wasn’t any room for Hiroko to try anything else. Kenshiro’s eyes lit up at these words.

“Sakura is here?” He asked with a newfound vitality.

“Sakura’s her name? She sounds nice.” Hiroko took another drag off her cigarette. “Any chance my baby boy’s here to see me too?” They both picked up their pace as they remembered that there were still people that cared for them. The bridge was in their sights now, and Sakura awaited their arrival.

An image of the fully grown man that Hiroko was referring to crossed Mukuro’s mind and she laughed before responding.

“No, but he’s waiting for you back at our base. You’ll both be headed there soon.” The soldiers positioned on the sidewalk leading to the bridge straightened their posture upon seeing the trio walk towards them, though one of them spared Mukuro a curious glance as he noticed the carrying cage in her hand before using his radio to inform Sakura that her friend had arrived with more persons of interest.

“So what’s this “Sakura” like, anyway?” Hiroko voiced her curiosity, though neither of her companions needed to voice their answers before the woman’s eyes widened in surprise upon seeing the ultimate martial artist for the first time.

However, Sakura paid no heed to her friend’s mother ogling her like some exotic beast. In that moment, her attention was completely rapt by the sight of Kenshiro. Sakura had a tender look in her eyes that Mukuro had never seen before as the two martial artists embraced one another for the first time in years. They took a moment to savor each other’s presence as the setting sun behind them formed a ring of light around the pair.

“Oh.” Hiroko muttered out as her cigarette fell limply out of her mouth. “Yeah, I guess I could see those two together.”

Sakura finally stepped away from her lover and turned to Mukuro with tears in her eyes.

“I cannot thank you enough for this. For a time, I believed I would never see him again.”

“Just doing my duty.” Mukuro responded as she breathed a sigh of relief at being able to hand off the cat to someone else. She would never have admitted it, but that damned thing was heavy.

“I will see you once more before you leave.” The pain in Sakura’s voice was audible as she addressed Kenshiro. “However, Juzo and I need to speak to Mukuro one more time tonight.”

* * *

These were far and away the most unconventional orders Mukuro had ever received. At least searching for the hostages was something that made sense. She had been convinced this was some sort of joke at first, yet Juzo was adamant in his stance.

“There’s only two hostages unnacounted for! Why should I stop searching now?” Mukuro held out the checklist of people she’d been told to find, showing that, true to her word, the only ones left were Komaru Naegi and Kanon Nakajima. “I could easily find them tomorrow, with how much of the city we’ve searched already.”

“That’s not the point.” Juzo responded as he rubbed his forehead with his fingers in frustration. “You’ve been running all over the place with complete impunity and an absurd of weaponry on you.”

“So then I can-“

“And on top of that, you keep bursting into random apartment complexes and tearing down doors whenever you get suspicious that there might be someone in there.”

“If me being on the streets is an issue, I can just join the force assigned with finding Haiji and Monaca. If you’re worried about the image the people here have of me, then help me look for all those missing children the civilians keep bothering us about.” At this point, Mukuro knew at this point that the details of what she was doing wasn’t the issue, but she wretched at the thought of doing nothing.

“If Tokuichi had any actual information about those two, we would have gotten it out of him by now.” Juzo sighed out as he slouched back in his chair and stared at the ceiling. “Seriously, he only admitted Monaca was his daughter a week after we took him into custody; I doubt he actually knows anything about her whereabouts.”

“So then, this is a PR problem?” Mukuro asked as she slumped back in her seat. “I thought that was what 14th division was here for.”

“Those are our classmates you’re referring to.” Sakura chastised her in irritation. “And they can only do so much to ease the spirits of the inhabitants here.”

“So why haven’t you given this lecture to the other fifteen thousand men here!?” They both flinched away at her demands. “You really think I’m the only one causing problems here?”

Sakura and Juzo shared uncertain glances with one another. Mukuro could tell there was something they were neither willing nor able to just say outright but could do nothing but await an answer. It finally came in the form of Sakura asking a particularly odd question.

“You remember what you were doing the day we met Kamukura for the first time, do you not?”

“I was with Aoi in the classroom-“

“Before that.” Sakura clarified. “I meant what we were doing at the start of the day.”

“Oh, right. You and I were sparring in the dojo.”

“And how many times did you win?”

“None.”

Juzo smirked at this response, thought the look on his face faded upon receiving a contemptuous huff from the martial artist under his command.

“And what did I tell you after your fourth loss?”

“That I needed…” Mukuro’s eyes widened in epiphany. “to rest.”

“Our classmates in 14th have been given similar orders, and-“

“And they weren’t anywhere near this dramatic about it.”

Sakura spared her superior officer a scornful look before continuing.

“I think it would be best for you all to enjoy ourselves, even if only for a day.”

“Sakura, I get what you’re trying to do, but-“

“Just stop it.” Juzo interjected, the harshness of his words not matching that particular brand of affectionate condescending that he so effortlessly communicated. “If you won’t take the day off for your own sake, do it because we said so.”

He leaned forward to emphasize his next words.

“These are orders from your commander, Mukuro. Go have some fun for once in your life.”

* * *

Mukuro woke to the sound of someone slowly opening the door to the prefab she was sleeping in, but didn’t move an inch. She’d learned long ago that pretending to be unaware of an impending ambush allowed one to flip the purpose of said ambush on its head, giving the victim the element of surprise rather than the attacker.

The intruder took deliberately slow steps, clearly landing on the tips of their toes judging by the sound the floors made with his every step.

Meaning that whoever this was genuinely thought they were being stealthy.

Meaning that this person wasn’t actually a threat.

“Makoto?”

Her groggy voice had caused him to jump back in surprise before falling on his back after losing his balance. When Mukuro straightened herself up to look at him, she couldn’t help but chuckle at the sight of her boyfriend rubbing his back in pain.

“S-sorry, I wasn’t sure how to go about waking you up.” He stammered out as he stood himself up.

“So what is it you need?” She assumed this most likely wasn’t an emergency, considering his attempt at waking her up.

“Wow, you certainly wake up a lot faster than I do.” He remarked before continuing. “And um, I really don’t know how this is gonna sound.”

“Just say it.” Mukuro had learned long ago to let go of her inhibitions around Makoto, and hoped that her soft smile would help him do the same.

“Well, Sayaka and Leon said they wanted us all to go shopping in the city later today.”

“Oh.” Mukuro tried not to let her worries slip into her voice, but Makoto’s expression indicated that they did so anyway.

“Yeah, I’m honestly not looking forward to it either.” Makoto made his way onto the bed next to Mukuro and leaned on her shoulder. “I can barely handle the way the people who live here look at me when I’m on that podium with Sayaka and Leon, I can’t imagine what it’ll be like walking around the streets there.”

“I’ll be there in case anything happens.” If there was one thing Mukuro wanted Makoto to be certain of, it was that.

“I know, I know, but that’s not really the point. I just don’t think it’ll be enjoyable, you know?” He kicked his feet idly as he explained himself.

“So, you want to cancel those plans with them?” Mukuro asked, unsure how to feel about her own proposition.

“Well, no. But at the same time, I was hoping we could get some time in together.” He turned to Mukuro and smiled. “You know; just the two of us!”

She wrapped her arm around him and sighed. Despite the initial shock of being woken up early, she was grateful that he was willing to go to such lengths just to spend time with him.

“So what did you want to do?”

He went silent.

“I honestly didn’t think that far ahead.”

A thought occurred to her. She took her arm out from around his shoulders and grabbed his hand. As she shot out of the bed, she did her best to stifle a giggle at the noise of surprise he made. The two of them shot out of the prefab and Mukuro paid no heed to the occasional bewildered glances these actions earned her.

There was something that Mukuro wanted to see, and she had a feeling she would see it, judging from the rays of light creeping over the towering skyscrapers of Towa on the other side of the bridge from them.

Not the sunrise itself, of course. That was hardly news to her. However, Makoto himself was rapt in attention by sight before him.

And so, the two of them were dead silent at the moment, content to watch the sunrise over the horizon from Future Foundation’s makeshift encampment on the other end of bridge. Mukuro had never been one for scenic vistas. She always found looking at any sight, no matter how beautiful, to be a moot action once one had fully comprehended what one was looking at.

This view of the rising sun was no exception, and this feeling about it was only compounded as she reminisced on how many times she’d already brought other people to the bridge while looking at it.

What grabbed Mukuro’s attention was the way the sunlight reflected from his eyes, which lit up like stars upon viewing the sight of the sun creep its way over the buildings and the water behind them. Watching his expression switch from being groggy and dejected doing absolutely starstruck was a wonderful mix of amusing and heartwarming. Judging from his reaction, it was likely this was the first sunrise he had actually paid attention to in a long time.

As she stared longingly at Makoto’s starry eyed expression, she prayed the sun would never stop rising.

* * *

Mikan’s latest patient looked at her with fear and unspoken pleas for mercy in his eyes as she put the anesthetic mask over his face, but he didn’t try to fight back. At least this one had the decency to recognize it was too late for such things. That he looked at her and expected sympathy didn’t just confuse Mikan, it angered her.

This man _chose_ to waltz into a casino owned by the Kuzuryu clan as if he could expect to win a damn thing.

After watching the electro-cardio diagram until his heartrate had slowed down sufficiently, she pushed the bastard over on the operating table. This action was clearly medically inadvisable if the various high-pitched noises coming from the machines monitoring the man’s vital signs were any indication, but it didn’t matter to Mikan. She was good enough at her job to finish her work before any serious damage to his respiratory system could occur.

This man _chose_ to drink himself into a stupor in a goddamn Yakuza den as if that action would have any good outcome for him.

Mikan got out her scalpel and made the incisions on his lower back and shuddered as she imagined would sort of horrified screams he would make as she tore out his organs without anesthesia. That was how she performed these operations at first, but the way the damn pigs would shake and scream in pain often caused her to make mistake that damaged the valuable organs. At the end of the day, this was a business and her boss demanded results.

This man _chose_ to bet his own kidneys on a card game against Fuyuhiko motherfucking Kuzuryu and had the gall to act indignant upon learning that the game had been rigged against him.

Time was of the essence. She had three other people awaiting the same fate for the exact same reason and a very tight schedule. In place of carefully severing each vein and artery connecting the kidney to the rest of the body, Mikan wrapped her hand around the thing and took a moment to savor its warmth and the way in gently pulsated in her grasp.

She had no pity for this man, and in a way, appreciated that he had the good sense not to fight back. He knew what he was getting into when he walked in here and accepted this treatment with (relatively, it did take no small amount of coercion form Peko) good grace. Unlike a certain backstabbing monster, this man never tried to be more than he was and break free from despair.

Mikan pulled with all her might, causing the thread-like veins coming from the kidney to pop and spread blood all over the room. The man’s heartrate spiked slightly and Mikan swore she heard him let some sort of whimper of pain. She tossed the kidney into the icebox next to her operating table with a wet splatting noise and wrapped her hand around the other one. The Kuzuryu clan only ever promised their customers cheap organ transplants. If anyone thought they were getting a quality product from a yakuza clan, that was their loss.

Mikan shivered and wrapped her arms around herself as she imagined doing the same to Mukuro. Junko still lived on in the nurse’s head and demanded a gruesome vengeance that she would be happy to provide.

This bloody fantasy was brought to an abrupt halt by the sound of the doors to the operating room swinging open.

“Good om-nom-nomming!”

“It’s two in the morning.” Mikan responded without looking up from the operating table. With the way Ibuki had stormed in without any sort of protective equipment, this man would surely die within weeks from every kind of infection imaginable. That was as good of an excuse as any to take the heart and lungs out of him.

“Uhh, yeah. Two in the _morning_. Hence the greeting!” Ibuki responded in her usual candid tone and placed her hands on her hips triumphantly, not caring in the slightest that the literal guitar axe slung around her shoulder had just made a cut on the top of her forearm. “You should be grateful that Ibuki’s here to correct you!”

“Aren’t you supposed to be on tour in Korea?” Mikan asked as she resumed the process of tearing out the man’s other kidney.

“Yeah… about that…” Ibuki touched the tips of her pointer fingers together repeatedly in feigned nervousness. “Korea’s not really a thing anymore.”

Mikan ripped out the other kidney with one dramatic motion, once again scattering blood across the operating room.

“What do you mean it’s ‘not a thing anymore’?” Mikan always hated it when people interrupted her during her work, especially when they weren’t clear as to their reasons.

“Mikan, what the eff?” Ibuki cried out as she looked at the blood on her guitar. “You got blood on Ibuki’s new guitar!” The musician took a moment to examine the bloodstains more closely.

“Actually, this looks really cool, can you do that again?”

“Answer the question!” Mikan screamed as she threw her blood-stained scalpel at her former classmate. It only grazed Ibuki’s cheek, but it was more about the message that the action sent.

“Oh right, that. You mean you haven’t heard anything about what Sonia’s been up to?” Ibuki continued, unperturbed by her brush with death. “Oh, that’s right! You losers stuck in Japan get all your news from the Future Folks!”

Ibuki crossed her arms and sneered.

“Leave it to miss Yukizome to take all the fun out of impending doom…”

“What the hell are you going on about!?” At this point, Mikan was finally paying full attention to the musician. She was pulling out her hair while doing so, but Ibuki didn't really seem to care.

“Okay, okay, okay; the short version.” She held her arms in the air in an attempt to appease the deranged nurse. “Sonia’s conquered Russia and both of the Koreas and she’s on her way to Japan now.”

Something lit up in Mikan’s eyes as opportunities flashed through her mind at the implications of this.

“And, she’s holding a class reunion!” Ibuki once again placed her hands on her hips. “And Ibuki’s been put in charge of telling everyone about it!”

The musician made her way to the door.

“Now come on! Let’s go give baby gangsta the good news!”

Mikan threw her bloodstained gown on the ground and followed Ibuki with a newfound vigor in her pace. The poor bastard on the table could sew himself back up for all she cared.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yall fuckin forgot about sonia didnt you


	13. Armies of Hel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As Kyoko lets her emotions interfere with her work, Komaru Naegi finally obtains her freedom. Makoto Naegi loses his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for graphic violence and some vomiting. idk if anyone actually needs vomit tagged but i thought I'd be safe  
> anyways mukuro finally gets to do cool soldier stuff!

Kyoko opened the door to her father’s office as slowly as she could manage. The fact that he was on some sort of business call with some woman related to Towa (it had to be about that damned city if the anger in the woman’s voice was any indication) was most definitely the only reason that she was hesitant. She was a professional, and professionals do not let their emotions get in the way of their jobs.

Her father motioned for her to sit and she did so after giving him yet another ice-cold glare. He didn’t even bother acknowledging her presence in the room aside from this invitation to the chair in front of his desk. As Kyoko waited for Jin to finish his business she twirled her braid around in her fingers with a level of intensity that would have made her suspicious if she had seen anyone else do it. Naturally, she was just nervous about the prospect of cooperating with him in this rather unconventional case, and the risk of exposing herself to someone who may very well be an ally of Chisa.

Naturally.

Jin groaned out a token farewell to the angry woman over the phone and hung up, not even waiting for the connection to be severed before letting out a grated, sigh. As his gaze fell upon the visage of his daughter, he knew that he’d gone from one series of complaints to another.

“I apologize for taking so long to conclude my business. Public relations-“

“What is it you want?” Kyoko wanted out of this room. Despite Jin’s best attempts, the two of them were only courteous on the best of days. Neither showering her in privileges that come with being the headmaster’s daughter, assisting her with her work when she wouldn’t admit she needed it, nor even simply prostrating himself before her and begging for forgiveness would fix this.

It broke the man’s heart and Kyoko knew it, but that was deserved as far as she was concerned. Jin wasn’t the one who had to grow up alone.

“Look, Kyoko, I’m –“

“Worried about me.” She sighed out the words just like she had a thousand times before. “Did you really have to pick now, of all times to do this?”

“That’s exactly why I’m worried about you.” He clarified as he straightened himself in his chair. “You’ve got bags under your eyes, you keep failing to report to Chisa for your assignments, and you shut yourself away in your dorm all day yesterday.”

“And so Chisa told you to come get me.”

“She told me not to do this, actually. She wanted to talk to you about this herself”

Kyoko locked eyes with Jin and tried her best not to hide her shock. Not due to her father’s umpteen millionth attempt to insert himself into her life, though.

Chisa wanted to see her in person about her absence.

Therefore, this was something important to Chisa.

Therefore, Chisa knew that Kyoko was on to her.

Jin may have just saved her life unintentionally.

“That look on your face confirms it. There’s something you’re not telling anyone.” Jin continued before Kyoko realized she was most likely supposed to have responded to those words.

Not one to be shown up by this joke of a detective, she quickly gathered enough of her faculties for a retort.

“So what if I am?” She crossed her arms and looked away. “What do you care? We don’t have any ties anymore. You’re not even my headmaster.”

He didn’t respond, knowing better than to retort with some reminder of their familial relationships. She got up after he just stared at her with those pleading eyes that she’d long since grown numb to. As she wrapped her hand around the doorknob, he made his last attempt at reaching out to her.

“Kyoko, please.”

She’d let the usage of her first name slide, but just this once.

“I failed you as a father. I failed everyone as the headmaster of Hope’s Peak.”

Kyoko didn’t need to turn around to know he was on the verge of tears.

“Just please, if nothing else, let me prove my worth to you as a detective.”

Those failures that he used to try and pull her heartstrings were just more reasons not to trust him.

She closed the door behind her without looking back.

* * *

Back before The Tragedy, Sayaka’s manager had never allowed her nor any of the members of her group to use public transportation. He had always lectured her on how she was to keep a professional distance from the public, and that not being around them more than she had to be was a good start to this. She’d never understood these orders very much, but if it helped her achieve her dreams, then so be it.

Of course, now that she was actually on a subway with a crowd of people she didn’t know, she couldn’t help but wish that she had stuck to those orders even after her group “broke up”. The presence of Makoto and Leon was comforting, but she still felt anxious about being in such close quarters with so many strangers.

Their undisguised glares of animosity only served to further drive her into anxiety. She instinctively covered the pin signifying that she was a representative of Future Foundation and scooted closer to her friends.

“Everything alright?” Leon asked as he ran his fingers through his hair out of habit. If there was one positive outcome to this whole nightmarish scenario, it would be that she was now just a former idol. She was now free to indulge in her romantic desires without fear of those damned “fans” or her manager. Sayaka locked her free arm around his and sighed.

“I just wish I knew what we’re doing here.”

“Woah, hey…” He leaned in closer to her. “Not so loud, yeah? I’m pretty sure that’s bad for morale or whatever.”

“What’s it matter?” She retorted, though she did lower her voice at his request. “Everyone here hates us anyway.”

“Don’t worry, Sayaka! I promise this will all work out.” Makoto’s interjection was certainly welcome, but she still couldn’t help but doubt his words. Her childhood friend had an impeccable ability to raise the spirits of those around him, but there was only so much he could do right now.

“B-But how do you know that?” Sayaka asked, her voice much more subdued than she intended. Something about Makoto made it impossible to be angry at him.

“Relax.” Makoto reassured her as he scooted closer to his friends. “With Mukuro and Juzo searching this place from top to bottom, there’s no way we’ll have to be here much longer!”

“The little guy’s right.” Leon chimed in. “Nothing that pisses Mukuro off is gonna stay hidden for long!”

His voice trailed off and he turned toward Makoto.

“Speaking of, you two aren’t still fighting, are you?” The baseball star shivered as he remembered the events at the firing range. “Seriously, I really don’t wanna stay on her bad side any longer than I have to.”

“Huh?” Makoto’s cheeks turned red. “Oh, yeah. We’re better now.”

This managed to bring a smile to Sayaka’s lips.

“That’s good. You two are super cute together!”

She didn’t have time to tease Makoto for his flustered reaction before the train came screeching to a halt.

“ _Emergency stop. Please remain calm_.”

Frustrated murmurs filled the tense air of the tightly packed subway.

“ _Emergency stop. Please remain calm_.”

The horrendous sound of metal scraping against metal pierced Sayaka’s skull as the roof of the subway was ripped open. Hordes of those Monokuma robots that the soldiers she'd been working alongside told her wouldn't be an issue poured in from where the ceiling used to be, their claws turning everything around her a deep crimson.

It was over in seconds. One moment, she was wondering where these robots had come from. The next, Sayaka and her friends were covered head to toe in the viscera of strangers as a pack of the mechanical beasts stared her down. A series of wet splashing noises echoed through the train as two sets of footsteps made their way to the trio.

The contents of Sayaka's stomach came spilling out when she realized the splashing came from the sea of viscera that the monokuma bots had formed at their feet.

"We could just kill them. You know that, right?" The first one asked. Sayaka looked up to see a young girl with pink pigtails long enough to dip into the crimson puddles at her feet. She was sticking her tongue out at a boy the same age as her with blue hair.

"We can't! Monaca went through all this trouble to track them down, she obviously wanted them alive."

* * *

Just like every other morning, Komaru Naegi woke up and made sure to stretch her body thoroughly before doing anything else. Just like every other morning, she got dressed in one of the high school uniforms that had been given to her sometime around a month ago, though time had long since lost its meaning. Just like every other morning, she walked out onto the couch and skimmed over the magazines that had been given to her.

She skimmed, of course, as she had long since memorized the contents of those stupid things. She could recite every step in Junko Enoshima’s skincare routine and was well aware of all of the legendary Teruteru Hanamura’s ( _why does so much pop culture these days revolve around highschoolers with larger than life personalities?_ ) secret ingredients and tear-jerking stories behind his recipes. There were also several interviews with Sayaka Maizono about her latest album and the meaning behind the lyrics of the songs, but she’d read those long before her imprisonment here. After all, she was a Sayaka stan first, and a person second.

Just like every other morning, she watched the door patiently in waiting for her breakfast to be delivered. The scheduled delivery of food was the only method she had of measuring the passage of time in this bizarrely accommodating prison. Just like every other morning, when the food finally came, she began impotently pounding on the door and voicing the same cries for freedom that she’d given voice to over and over again.

Just like every other morning, whoever it was on the other side of the door paid no heed to her screams for help. Just like every other morning, she slumped herself against the door after making a few more token slams against that cursed thing that kept her in here. Just like every other morning, she cried her eyes out at the realization that she would most likely never see her family again.

She could only assume that her imprisonment was linked to the series of catastrophes that followed the massacre of the Hope’s Peak student council somehow, but she had no confirmation of this. She had no confirmation of anything, what with being stuck in this apartment for who knows how long. She limply fell onto the floor in front of the door and sobbed to herself, not knowing or caring if anyone bore witness to it.

Unlike every other morning, a thumping noise came from the other side of the door.

Komaru didn’t bother getting her hopes up; that never lead to anywhere good.

The noise came again, louder than last time but still nothing more than a dull thud.

She slammed her hands on top of her ears, refusing to let this false hope infect her.

Something slammed into the door. By the time she had noticed the impact had sent her flying, she was on the far end of the room. Her ears were ringing, and her head was spinning. She stumbled around like a drunk for a moment before finally orienting herself onto her feet. The sight before her when she finally regained enough of her faculties to process the events around her was utterly alien to her, yet it still felt strangely familiar somehow.

A cartoonish bear of some sort stared at her from the entrance to the apartment. One half was white as snow, with a simple black dot in the place where an eye might be, the innocent smile on its face made all the more off-putting by the other half of the creature. Black as pitch, the sharpened teeth in its malicious grin were complimentary to crimson eye that glowed with ill intent. It stood at the door and stared at her, its head swaying from side to side as if contemplating its options for what to do with her.

This wasn’t quite human interaction, but Komaru was too desperate to care.

“U-Um, are you-“

Once again, her hope betrayed her. The bear stretched its arms out to its sides and Komaru heard the sound of swords being unsheathed as sets of claws as long as her forearm came out of the creature’s stubby little paws.

“I’m gonna punish you!”

The creature lunged forward, and Komaru darted to the side without thinking. She only heard the sound of the bear crashing against the furniture behind her; she was too busy running for her life to actually see it. She ran out the door to the apartment. Komaru wasn’t quite sure what she imagined finally getting her freedom would be like, but she had at least expected there to be a little more fanfare when she finally got out.

Instead, she was running for her life from some cartoon animal.

She rounded the corner of this surprisingly normal apartment complex and saw a pair of men in combat armor featuring a logo on their chests that she didn’t recognize. That wasn’t the strangest thing about them, considering the megaphones they were pointing at the corridors around them like guns, but it was strange nonetheless. The fact that they actual rifles slung around their torsos made the sight even more surreal.

One of them saw Komaru and waved at her. As the man approached her, another one of those bears charged out of one of the doors he was walking past and sunk its claws into his torso, covering it in even more blood. The other man raised his megaphone as if to fire it, but another came from a hole in the ceiling and sliced him to ribbons in the blink of an eye.

Komaru looked back the way she came, but all she saw was the bear that had torn open her door. It sauntered towards her as though it knew that she was trapped. The creatures continued their nonsensical ramblings about punishments and despair as they made their way toward her. Without thinking, she opened the door next to her, which lead into a stairwell. Such luck would have put her brother to shame.

She ran down as fast as she could, not bothering to savor this stroke of blind luck. She heard the door collapse behind her as the bears rendered it asunder with their claws. She opened the door at the bottom to a lobby that was far more normal in its appearance than what she had expected. Those bears weren’t behind her at the moment, and she collapsed on the floor while trying to catch her breath. She slammed the door behind her and leaned against it. It was against her best interests, given that she didn’t know how long it would be until those creatures reached the door, but she was too shellshocked to care.

Komaru took in the sights around her and it dawned on her just how odd it was that this building was completely normal. This entirely unremarkable apartment complex had been her prison for what Komaru realized must have been an entire year, yet this was clearly a place other people lived as well. She couldn’t help but wonder whether she was the only one to suffer this fate or if everyone in this building was subjected to the same cruelty.

She got up and started walking around to examine her surroundings. A group of three or four of those bears lay on the ground completely immobile in a circle around the corpse of another one of those soldiers with the strange logo on their chests. For reasons she couldn’t quite articulate, she moved closer to examine it.

The bears around him remained motionless, and she kicked on aside with a metallic clang ( _oh, they’re machines. I totally knew that!)_ and picked up the megaphone that had slipped out of his blood soaked hand. That was a choice she immediately regretted once she realized the device was also covered in the stuff and her hand was now a bright crimson.

The fact that she’d just touched a dead body finally dawned on her, and she was vomiting in the blink of an eye. With her breakfast on the floor in front of her in seconds, she stood there dry-heaving as though there was still more to disgorge. She still held on to the device, but it now came with a deep sense of wrongness. She attempted to wipe the blood from her hand onto her skirt, but it didn’t actually get the blood off of her. This action only served to paint her skirt crimson.

The door to the stairwell went flying across the lobby and a trio of the bears came stumbling out, tripping over each other as if doing so for comedic effect. Komaru ran out the door before they could finish straightening themselves up.

The moment she reached the outside of the building, she reflexively covered her eyes with the hand holding the device upon being accosted by the sun. It was, rather understandably, blinding to her after having been inside for that long. She wished she had remained blind when she was finally able to see what was happening around her.

Those bear machines that were trying to skewer her alive while she was in the apartment were scattered across the street, slaughtering all those they saw with deadly impunity. They met nominal resistance against the soldiers with the megaphones that she now carried as well, but they were still forced to herd the regular folks away from the approaching horde. Komaru tried to reach a group of soldiers about a hundred meters away, but a trio of the mechanical monsters came crashing out of one the nearby buildings and blocked her path.

She ducked into a nearby alleyway, not thinking in the slightest about where she would end up. Before she could even process that this was a dead end, a pair of arms wrapped around and pulled her behind a dumpster. She let out a muffled scream as her captor covered her mouth.

“Will you shut up!? I’m trying to help you!” The voice of Komaru’s captor was far more feminine than she had expected, despite how angry her whispering was. She stopped kicking and screaming, and her captor let her go.

“Okay, good. Now just stay here with me for a sec while she takes care of this.” If this girl was still whispering, Komaru figured it would be best to follow suit.

“Wh-what? Who- who are you?”

Another one of those soldiers with the weird symbols walked past the pair. This one rather notably didn’t have a megaphone on her person. The other girl’s voice rose once the soldier walked past the pair.

“Oh, right. It’s kinda rude to pull someone behind a dumpster without telling them your name, huh?”

“Wh-“

“My name’s Kanon! Kanon Nakajima!” She reached her hand out to shake Komaru’s. “What about you?”

“I- uh… what-“

“Don’t worry, we’ll get to that later.” Kanon peaked out from behind the dumpster and motioned for Komaru to do the same. “You’re gonna wanna see this!”

Komaru did as she was told in the vain hopes that it would answer the numberless questions swimming through her head.

The soldier that had been in the alleyway with them walked up to the trio of bears that had driven her here.

They lunged forward in perfect unison. Three rounds from her rifle sent them flying back.

Another two came from the inside the building. The soldier lunged forward to meet them. Her knife went through the first one at the same time as another round from her rifle went through the side of the other one’s head.

Four more dropped down from the roof of the building in front of them. The soldier let out another three round burst, disabling three of them before they even had the chance to charge. The fourth one flies out and she switches her grip to hold her rifle like a club and slams it against the robot, sending sparks and glass everywhere.

Another ten come barreling down the street, moving far faster than when chasing Komaru through the apartment. Komaru wondered if they were somehow able to sense which targets were actually a threat.

Komaru lost the ability to perceive any of the soldier’s individual motions by the time the horde of ursine droids reached her. The woman had become a flurry of gunfire and knives amidst the monochromatic sea of her assailants. More and more of them joined the fight, but they were so much cannon fodder to this woman.

Every strike against her only resulted in the demise of her assailants.

Every one of her motions spread destruction across the opponent like a finely crafted brush.

When it was finally over, there were at least two dozen of the machines spread across her feet, their broken husks having formed a pile beneath her. She stepped down from the pile of her slain enemies with complete nonchalance and made her way towards the girls. Kanon dragged Komaru out from behind the dumpster and looked at the soldier with stars in her eyes.

“That was so fucking cool! How did you get that good at fighting!?”

The soldier sighed and walked past Kanon. Komaru flinched away reflexively when she realized the soldier was walking toward her. She pulled a picture out of a pocket on her chest and held it up next to Komaru’s face.

“You’re Komaru Naegi, right?” She asked as she looked back at Komaru.

“Uh.. yes?” Komaru didn’t actually know if giving this heavily armed stranger personal information was a good idea, but alternatives eluded her at the moment.

“My name’s Mukuro Ikusaba. I’m here to save you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote the last 1000 or so words of this chapter at 2 am so if theres typos or whatever than sorry ;-; but thats how it is in this bitch of a fic  
> Also yes the chapter name is still in keeping with the norse mythology thing. Hel is a realm of the dead where the evil go when they die but i dont know whether or not the similarities between it and the judeo-christian hell are coincidental


	14. Regin's Blessing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Akane gets a new toy and Komaru learns about what happened while she was imprisoned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for blood and gore but just do yourself a favor and assume that this applies to all future chapters, cause things are gonna get a lot worse before they get any better.
> 
> Anyways from here on out this story is gonna have a lot of things happening at once so if it gets confusing feel free to let me know so i can clarify and try to edit it to make it easier to understand

The Future Foundation soldier whose name Akane had already forgotten tugged at his bomb collar as if it were just some ill-fitting dress shirt. The other two seemed to be taking this better than he was, though Akane couldn’t help but smirk when she noticed their knuckles turning white due to the intensity with which they gripped their weapons. The makeshift shivs they were allowed looked ridiculous compared to the pristine (aside from the wear and tear they had accumulated while trying to avoid being captured) suits that were their standard attire.

She sat on the other end of the arena from them with her legs crossed. She stifled a giggle as she alternated between staring each one of them down and watching them flinch as her eyes fell on them. Whenever one of them actually had the courage to look at her first, she’d just run her fingers along the dozens of scars on her body. They always wilted away after that.

The trio looked to the edges of the arena and into the stands as though the spectators would be willing to help them. The audience was dead silence as per Fuyuhiko’s request. For whatever reason, baby gansta had insisted that no one was allowed to make any noise until the match actually started. Akane had always thought that was dumb, as pregame banter was something she considered to be her specialty. However, she was powerless against this as this was his place.

Thus, the only noises that filled the room were the ticking of the timer counting down to the start of the match and the rumbling of her stomach. The latter noise certainly killed the mood, but it was necessary for despair or whatever. Akane still wasn’t entirely sure how this pursuit of despair worked, but it kicked in and made her feel good whenever she hurt others or herself.

Those instructions were easy enough to follow, and she quickly learned that starvation was the best method of self-harm that still let her fight others when she needed. Two days was the longest she’d gone without eating before a fight, and she was hoping to break that record today with three.

The buzzer had yet to ring, and Akane was getting antsy. She tugged at her own collar and the chain connected to it, knowing that every movement was taxing her dwindling stamina. It didn’t really matter considering the sheer amount of weight on the other end of the chain, but she knew coach was gonna give her an earful for wasting her energy once this match was over.

She looked up at the timer above the arena.

Five seconds.

She stood up and took hold of the chain.

Four seconds.

She jerked at it repeatedly until the dumbbell on the other end started swinging in a circle at her side.

Three seconds.

Nekomaru was looking at her with disappointment from the stands, but she paid him no heed.

Two seconds.

The way her muscles screamed at her for swinging around a hundred pound dumbbell on the end of a chain like it was made of string made her feel so goddamn _alive_.

One second.

She flashed the soldiers a toothy grin, her malice as clear as day. The one on the left of their little huddle let out a pathetic little whimper.

The buzzer went off.

She let go of the chain and it went flying at the cowardly one, then sprinted as fast as she could to ensure that the dumbbell didn’t get too far ahead of her.

As befitting the ultimate gymnast, her weapon was more of a balancing act than anything else. If she swung the chain too softly, the dumbbell would just land at her opponent’s feet, rendering her powerless to stop them from picking it up and incapacitating her. If she swung it too hard, she wouldn’t be able to catch up with the dumbbell, and the chain would snap her neck.

The constant fear of being killed by her own weapon was exhilarating beyond words.

Today, Akane would make no such rookie mistake. The dumbbell soared through the air, true to its destination of the coward’s face. He didn’t even have time to scream as he fell to the ground, his face no more than a bloody pulp.

Akane didn’t really care about him. The ones who were fearful right to the end never gave her any worthwhile entertainment.

The two that were still alive, however, had a fire in their eyes. Those were always the ones that put up the best fight.

Those were always the ones that made the best sounds as they died.

She pulled the dumbbell out of the dead one before the one closest to him could try to grab it, backing away as she pulled the chain closer to her.

Akane took another step back and swung the chain overhead, then brought it down onto the shoulder of the soldier closer to her. As his comrade approached her, she pulled the chain back and swung into the side. She let out a bellowing laughter as she swung the dumbbell into the man’s side and sent him flying.

As the second one tumbled onto the ground, she brought the dumbbell up and down faster than she ever had before. It landed square on the man’s back. A wet cracking noise filled the arena as blood and bits of bone came spewing out of his mouth. A few more reflexive jerks and was completely still.

The one with the bad arm wasn’t too happy about this, if his screams of fury and vows for vengeance were any indication. She pulled the dumbbell closer to her, preparing to strike again.

He changed his grip on his shiv and charged forward.

Her breathing was turning irregular; she had to end this quickly.

But there was no despair to be found in a certain victory.

She grabbed the very end of the chain that the dumbbell was attached to.

The man charged forward, ready to deliver a killing blow. Akane didn’t even try to dodge.

He thrusted the shiv, his palm bleeding as he gripped the thing far too tightly.

She brought her free arm up, and the shiv went right through it.

Akane was beyond pain at this point. She just looked him as he stared at the shiv like a dumb animal, expecting it just go through her arm and into her face.

She brought the dumbbell down on his head, and his brains painted the floor in front of her.

With this decisive blow, the crowd was presumably finally letting out the excitement they’d been holding back since the fight started. Akane didn’t actually hear any of it; blood loss and starvation were finally taking their toll on her. She collapsed onto the floor knowing full well she would not die here, no matter how close she came.

…

This assumption was proven right in her very next moment of consciousness. She woke up to the sight of Mikan changing the bandages on the wound on her arm. The nurse looked at her like she was some piece of garbage, but Akane was more than used to this.

“I should have fucking smothered you in your sleep for that stunt with the shiv.” Mikan hissed out through gritted teeth.

“You’re just jealous you don’t get to have fun in your despair like I do.” Akane responded with a smirk.

Before Mikan could think to try anything, the door to her makeshift hospital room swung open. The nurse didn’t even bother to let out some token greeting as Nekomaru, Fuyuhiko, and Peko walked in. She stormed out as she glared daggers at the gymnast.

“Sup, coach?” Akane asked as the trio sat down at the side of her bed. “Oh, and baby gan-“

Peko’s blade fell an inch from her throat.

“The young master was very clear that you were not to use that name again.”

“Yeesh, sorry ‘bout that.” She replied, not sorry in the slightest. “So what’s up?”

“I’m not gonna bother giving you the details cause I know your sorry ass isn’t gonna pay attention, so we’ll keep this brief.” Fuyuhiko grumbled out as he played with his tie. Akane giggled as she realized that after all this time, he was still probably getting Peko to tie it for him.

“The hell’s so funny!?” He asked, his voice just a little too high-pitched to be taken seriously.

“Calm yourself, Fuyuhiko.” Nekomaru urged him. “She’s just trying to make you angry. Just say what you came to say.”

“And she’s only being so childish because you allow her to be.” Peko interjected.

Nekomaru smirked. “I won’t deny that.”

“Okay, so before I have both you bastards killed for talking back to me any more, just let me fucking say my piece.” Fuyuhiko demanded, then continued before Akane could make fun of his voice cracking at the end there.

“Sonia’s coming to Japan with an army intent on destroying Future Foundation. While the rest of us have been given orders to help make that easier for her, she said she knew you two dumbasses weren’t gonna be able to follow any actually complex orders, so she made it simple for you two.”

Peko pulled out a gorgeous sheathed dagger and placed it in Akane’s lap. Akane scooped it into her arms in an instant to admire it. The sheath itself was a dazzling pearlescent white and its edges were covered in gemstones of all manner. The pommel in particular had a ruby that was at least half an inch in diameter inside of it.

She couldn’t help but stare at the thing in fascination. She was probably holding more money in her hands right now than she had ever seen in her life. She could buy so much fucking food if she pawned it off.

After all, it was always fun to wave fresh food in her sibling’s faces as they begged her for scraps.

Fuyuhiko’s voice brought her back to reality.

“All Sonia needs you to do is kill that back-stabbing bitch, Mukuro. That new toy’s a show of good faith from her highness.” He sighed in annoyance as he got out of his chair. “Now I’m leaving before you two piss me off anymore. Let’s fucking go, Peko.”

As Fuyuhiko made his way out the door, Peko stopped to address Akane.

“You should be honored her highness has given you such an important task.”

She clenched her fist in rage.

“I myself would have liked to carry it out.”

She briskly made her way out to catch up with Fuyuhiko.

Once they were out of earshot, Nekomaru burst into laughter.

“You did good there, sport!” He stammered out in between fits of laughter. “I love seeing that vein on his forehead pop!”

The laughter soon turned to coughing as sweat dripped down his brow. He sighed deeply before continuing. Akane had long ago learned not to point out ragged his breathing was.

“Seriously, though. You can’t expect to beat someone like Mukuro if you keep pulling these kinds of stunts.” He said as he pointed to Akane’s bandaged arm.

“Yeah, yeah…” She rolled her eyes. “So what’s the game plan?”

“According to Miss Yukizome, she and the rest of Future Foundation’s soldiers are in Towa City right now.” Nekomaru answered dug his fingers through his ears.

“Oh, fuck yeah!” She exclaimed. “That’s like, a few hours away, right? We could totally kill her today!”

He let out a deep sigh.

“I’d like for you to rest for a few days. You’re in bad shape right now.”

His demeanor changed in an instant.

“But if you’ve got that much spirit, there’s no way I can stop you!” He exclaimed before descending into another coughing fit. That fire that Nekomaru always had was still there, but his failing heart was doing its best to smother it.

“Seriously though, let’s at least see Teruteru before you leave.”

* * *

When Mukuro pulled her new companions into this diner, she’d expected it to be an uneventful affair after clearing out the robotic stragglers that were hunting the place for survivors. Making sure the building was secure was a brief affair for the likes of her, after all. Mukuro assumed that being allowed to rest in a quiet environment, even if only for a moment, would help the poor girl get her bearings.

Then, one of the wall mounted televisions flickered on and Mukuro prepared herself to see some sort of half-baked declaration of war from the directors of Towa Industries that her siblings in arms had not yet gotten around to arresting.

What she hadn’t expected to see was a band of small children slaughtering a crew of reporters and announcing some sort of paradise exclusively of children. The only upside to this turn of events was finally being able to locate that “Monaca” that Chisa insisted was so important.

Haiji, however, was still unaccounted for.

What pathetic vestiges of comfort that the trio had finally managed to gather were thoroughly destroyed by this new development. Despite this, Mukuro still insisted that they sit down for a minute. The soldier insisted that it was because the two of them needed to rest and recuperate, but Komaru was pretty sure that this was just as much for Mukuro’s sake as for hers.

This didn’t change the fact that rest was something Komaru desperately needed. She’d been through more danger in the past half hour than in the past year, and she’d take any opportunity that came for the chance to sit down and try to process it all.

Questions raced through her mind a breakneck speed, making her unable to focus on one for too long. Her savior offered her a canteen from her belt, and Komaru took it without hesitation. She never realized how thirsty she was until just now.

After getting her fill of water, she was finally focused enough to ask one the seemingly endless questions she had.

“So…” Something felt wrong about this. She had to consciously remind herself how to construct sentences. “Who are you, exactly?”

Mukuro just stared at her in response.

“I already told you my name.”

Komaru stared at her lap as her cheeks turned scarlet. This certainly wasn’t how she imagined being rescued.

“I’m s-sorry!” She stammered out after a moment. “It’s just that-“

“This is the first time you’ve spoken to someone since you got imprisoned last year, right?” Kanon interjected as she brought herself closer to Komaru. “You’re the same as me, right?”

“Um, yeah. How did you know that?”

“She was in the same situation as you.” Mukuro explained after finally drinking from her own canteen. “You weren’t the only ones to have been imprisoned in those apartments, though you two are the only ones who are still in this city.”

“What about the others?” Komaru asked.

“I managed to successfully rescue the rest of them. Now, they’re back at Future Foundation’s headquarters.”

“Wh- Future Foundation? What is that?” Kanon asked as she scratched her head.

Every word that Mukuro said in response to this made less and less sense. If the philosophical concept of despair was so widespread and sever that such a large and militaristic organization was required to combat it, then clearly the world had changed for the worse since Komaru was imprisoned in that stupid apartment. Ultimately, Komaru could have guessed as much from the hordes of mechanical monsters (“Monokuma”, according to Mukuro), but it was still unsettling to learn that so much had happened while all she did was waste away in a gilded cage.

“This is all a lot to take in.” Komaru no longer cared if either of them could tell that she was shaking. Kanon didn’t seem to be fairing any better than her.

“Who’s responsible for all of this? Who could possibly be capable of committing such a tragedy? Was it those ‘warriors of hope’ kids?” Komaru liked to believe she asked this out of some sense of justice, but it was more due to being shellshocked than anything else.

Her savior went silent.

“That’s a long story.” She finally murmured out as she slumped back somewhat.

“What about our families?!” Kanon asked, clearly eager to change the subject. It just now occurred to Komaru that her new friend was probably just as confused as her. “Is Leon okay?”

“That’s a good question! What about our families?”

Yet another moment of silence from Mukuro followed this question.

“Komaru; I can at least guarantee your parents are safe. I escorted them out of this city myself.”

Komaru breathed a sigh of relief and didn’t even bother to feel guilty about it. Fortunately, Kanon seemed too angry to notice this. Mukuro was taking the brunt of her rage at the moment, though she appeared unfazed by it.

“What about me, huh!? Where’s my Leon!?” She slammed her hands on the table and leaned over it as if it would intimidate the soldier.

“I can’t say for certain.” Mukuro’s eyes grew dark and her voice trailed off. “I don’t know anything about him or any of my classmates right now. Makoto…”

That certainly got Komaru’s attention.

“Makoto!?” She jolted upright and struck a pose similar to the one Kanon was in. “Like, Makoto Naegi!? My brother?”

“Yes, your brother.” She clarified. “He, Leon, and Sayaka came with me and the rest of the armed forces occupying this city to ensure civilian cooperation, though I haven’t been able to get in touch with them or anyone else since the fighting broke out.”

“Then we gotta find them!” Kanon snapped. “I can’t leave my Leon here to die!”

“No, _I_ have to find them.” Mukuro’s interjection caused Kanon’s shoulders to slump somewhat. “ _You tw_ o have to get out of this city as fast as possible. It’s dangerous for you all to stay here.”

Silence fell over them.

“Once you’re all ready to go, let me know. The longer we stay, the less safe we are.” Mukuro’s word had become absolute to the two of them, but that didn’t make it any less frustrating.

“I actually, have a few more questions, i-if you don’t mind.” Komaru asked as her voice wavered.

“Go ahead.” Mukuro responded with a smile that was obviously forced. At least she had the decency to realize how intimidating she could be.

“So, umm, your name’s Mukuro Ikusaba, right?”

The soldier cocked up an eyebrow.

“Yes, why?”

“And you know my brother, Makoto Naegi, right? Like, you know him from Hope’s Peak, right?”

“Yes… where is this going?”

Komaru clammed up and her cheeks turned to a deep shade of scarlet and her ahoge drooped. She scratched her cheek as she searched for the right words.

“You absolutely can’t tell him about this conversation, okay!?”

The urgency in Komaru’s voice caused Kanon to perk up, though she was still visibly frustrated about not being allowed to hunt down Leon.

“So, umm…” She couldn’t even maintain eye contact with the soldier. “My brother used to text me about all of his classmates…”

Another awkward pause permeated through the room.

“And um… he… kinda sorta maybe… has a crush on you – Oh why’d I say that!” She wracked with guilt. “He made me promise not to tell anyone!”

It was Mukuro’s turn to blush and look away, though she returned to looking at Komaru after stifling a giggle. Now, however, her smile was very much genuine.

“I already know about that, don’t worry.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Akane's introduction was originally gonna be short to make room for some pov of some other characters but tbh i had way too much fun writing her so she kinda stole the show.  
> Anyways I wanna thank all yall who have read this far for sticking with me through this story! Your comments are all lovely!


	15. The Wild Hunt Begins

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The warriors of hope begin to fracture as they seek different goals, with some more openly treasonous than others.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw for a very brief allusion to csa/pedophilia in the second scene of this chapter.
> 
> anyways before we get into that stuff I mentioned in the summary lets have a brief completely-totally-for-real irrelevant flashback to Mukuro's days in fenrir  
> absolutely no correlation to anything whatsoever

_Mukuro wafted her hand in front of her nose in an attempt to dissipate the smell. She was no stranger to unpleasant sensations; her time at war had ensured that much. However, something about the odor of cigarettes had always proven intolerable for her. Perhaps it was the reminder of her early childhood, though that period of her life only existed in vague recollections of a lavish home and a pair of uncaring adults._

_“That could be dangerous, you know.” She spat out as she glared at Russ. He didn’t even look back at her, opting instead to stare at the ceiling of the run-down building as the smoke from his cigarette spread across it like water spilled from a glass. For a member of Fenrir that was supposed to be on par with Mukuro herself, the man was remarkably unprofessional. His blonde hair was far, far longer than what most military outfits would allow, to say nothing of the elaborate facial hair that he sported._

_He spared a glance at Ahriman placing explosives in the corner of the room before finally addressing Mukuro._

_“Of course it’s bad for me. Why else would I do it?” Russ remarked with a laugh. “Besides, who are you to talk about needless risks? Did you already forget the stunt you pulled to get us in here?”_

_Russ softly kicked the corpse at his feet, presumably to further chastise Mukuro, but she had already stopped listening. It was her job to watch the door, and she’d be damned if she wasn’t going to do it. Ferus hadn’t come back from searching the upper floors, making Mukuro more nervous than she already was about this mission. She was aware that money decided who was on the other end of her rifle, but that didn’t help her sleep at night after missions like this._

_“I suppose you’ll understand that when you get older.” Russ sighed out as he put his cigarette out with his boot. “After all, you’re only…“_

_He paused and scratched his chin, staring at Mukuro in contemplation._

_“How old are you, anyway?”_

_“I’m-“_

_“Don’t answer that.” Ahriman interjected from across the room._

_The explosive device in the corner of the room let out some sort of low-pitched beep and a green light emanated from its surface. Ahriman, presumably having finished his job, got up and walked towards his comrades._

_“You signed a contract stating that you were old enough to enlist. Do us all a favor and don’t force us to be complicit in such an obvious lie.”_

_Ahriman glared at Russ, clearly intent on lecturing the both of them._

_“Just for the record; when she was scolding you for recklessness, she was referring to having an open flame so close to explosive materials.”_

_“So is everything ready?” Mukuro was eager to leave this place. Something bad was bound to happen if they stayed any longer. She had no evidence for this train of thought, but a feeling that she was unable to put into words stirred in her gut and twisted it into a knot._

_“Yes, that should be the last of them.” Ahriman responded as relief flooded over Mukuro. “I’ll blow the charges once we’re clear. The inhabitants of this city will be none the wiser.”_

_Russ finally got up from leaning on the wall and turned to Mukuro. “Go get Ferus so we can leave. Something about this place isn’t right.”_

_A grim sort of comfort overcame her as she realized she wasn’t the only one unsettled by this place. Fear was an emotion best shared with others, after all. She nodded to him and made her way out of the room._

_“Ferus, come in.” She spoke into her radio._

_She ascended the stairs to the second floor after waiting for a response. None came, causing the anxieties that Ahriman had almost quelled to come rushing back to the surface._

_A gunshot shattered the tense tranquility. Mukuro sprinted down the hall in an attempt to locate its source. She kicked down the door at the end of the hall and froze at the sight before her._

_Ferus was dead, his corpse limply propped against the wall at the far end of the room. In front of it stood a boy, no older than ten. He didn’t even turn around, and his hitched breathing made it all too obvious what had happened in this room._

_Mukuro stood frozen in place, unsure what to do in this situation. Legally speaking, being caught here would be a (literal) death sentence for Mukuro and her comrades. Fenrir’s death would no doubt follow soon after once this scandal went international._

_“Are you-“_

_The boy turned around with greater speed than Mukuro had ever seen in a child. His eyes were bloodshot and filled with tears, and his hands were dwarfed by the pistol he held in them._

_For the briefest of moments, the two stared at each other, equally unsure what to do._

_The boy shouted something in his native tongue Mukuro didn’t understand and raised his stolen weapon._

_Yet another gunshot rang through the air._

_Russ and Ahriman reached the room and looked at Mukuro with genuine fear in their eyes. Such hardened veterans looking so helpless was almost as unnerving to Mukuro as what she had just done._

_Mukuro herself, however, had no emotion in her eyes whatsoever. They were clouded over and cold as ice. The anxiety that once permeated into her every movement having left her as fast as the bullet left her rifle._

_“Wh- Mukuro!” Russ stammered out after regaining his composure. “You just-“_

_“Encountered an enemy combatant.” She cut him off, placing her hands behind her back to hide how violently they were shaking. “He pointed a gun at me. He was a threat. If I hadn’t shot first, we’d have lost two people in this building.”_

_“He was just a child!” Ahriman snapped, though it was easy to see how hollow his own words were to him._

_“And no one outside of this room has to know that.” Mukuro insisted as she steeled herself for what was to come. After all, if she was to be a tool for her sister’s plans, this boy would only be the first of many. “Because if you did your job placing the charges, no one else will ever see these bodies.”_

_They stared at her in a way that she, objectively speaking, entirely deserved. Yet no alternatives presented themselves. They were in too deep and had no other options than to bury the evidence._

* * *

Haiji paced back and forth around the room in a panic as if he were an animal trapped in a cage. This analogy was inaccurate, of course, as the prince of Towa knew exactly where he was and why he was here. This allegorical cage was one of his own making. He had after all, allowed that little fucking snake Monaca free reign of the factories of Towa until the agents of Future Foundation were defeated. All of this could have been avoided had he not allowed his fear of the destruction of his family legacy to control him.

However, much like the caged animal, he had no idea how to escape this situation.

He bit his lip as his mind once again conjured up images of the slaughter that had taken place once his sister and that little band of miscreants that she’d been playing for fools completed their plans. Guilt overcame him, though not out of the sense of injustice that might be expected of this situation. His heartbreak from seeing the deaths of civilians came not from any sort of compassion, but simply from the realization that there was no way he could come back from this.

Haiji believed that helping Junko had been the worst mistake of his life, but clearly past him was a naïve dumbass if he hadn’t been able to predict things getting this bad.

He listened to the conversation that the trio of children in front of him were having, hoping to glean something useful but knowing it would be more indecipherable nonsense.

At least the little shits seemed to be just as panicked as he was.

“Seriously, why’d you let them do that!?” Nagisa shouted as he pointed an accusatory finger at Kotoko. “Now we’re missing two party members!”

“I tried to stop them; I really did!” Kotoko responded in an attempt to placate the fears of her comrade, though the way her voice shook indicated she was just about to piss her pants. “But, he’s the leader, right? I can’t actually make Masaru do something he doesn’t want to.”

Haiji stopped pacing for a moment as he tried to remember which one was Masaru. After all, he’d never met any of Monaca’s friends until a few days ago, and he’d made a point of trying not to remember more about them then what was absolutely necessary. For the life of him, Haiji couldn’t remember whether Masaru was the gross one with the mask or the one with the headphones that kept trying to kick him in the shins.

Come to think of it, he hadn’t seen either of them since the massacre began.

“If he and Jataro want to hunt demons on their own, then that’s their business.” Kotoko concluded with a complete lack of confidence in his own words.

So either one of the kids that could be Masaru were missing at the moment. It was no wonder Kotoko was so upset when their already small numbers were reduced so much.

Nagisa began pacing back and forth in a way that made Haiji chuckle with how similar it was to his own nervous habit. At least he wasn’t the only person on this airship that was suffering right now.

“Now how are we supposed to take the bridge? We can’t keep letting the demons escape!”

“Don’t worry, Nagisa. Monaca knows it’ll be okay.”

Monaca moved forward on her wheelchair toward Nagisa, who turned to face her in surprise. The boy’s cheeks became scarlet and he attempted to stammer out a response, though Monaca didn’t bother letting him form one.

“After all, they’re just playing the game we all agreed to play after we started killing all of the adults, right?”

“W-well, yes. But that doesn’t mean that-“

She inched just a little closer.

“And if they’re hunting the demons still trapped in the city, then they’re still helping us build paradise, right?”

“Yes, b-but we need to think about this tactically.”

The base of her wheelchair was right at Nagisa’s feet. He reflexively backed away when he felt the chair press against him, though this just caused Monaca to move forward to match his pace.

“Monaca thinks you’re the one who needs to put more thought into this. Do you really need four people to kill that big ugly ogre guarding the bridge? So what if she’s the ‘ultimate martial artist’? The two of you should be able to kill one stupid demon.”

Nagisa couldn’t even respond. He just pulled at his collar and stammered out nonsense as Monaca’s eyes kept drilling a hole right through his skull. That glare was even making Haiji tense up a little, so he could only imagine what the blue haired boy was feeling. For a moment, he almost felt sorry for the poor bastard.

Nagisa’s back hit the wall and the wheelchair nudged into him. He just stood there, completely petrified by Monaca’s gaze. As Kotoko just looked on with uncertainty and dread, Haiji balled his fists as a fire lit up in his eyes.

“But it’s okay!” Monaca’s mood changed in an instant. Deliberately changing tones that fast was an elementary (quiet literally) tactic to unnerve people, but it was effective on this particular audience.

“Monaca knows you’re just concerned that the plan-“

“Oh, so now you give a shit about plans!?”

He had no reason to be this scared of a fucking child.

Monaca turned her chair slowly and her face turned back to that same expression she used to intimidate Nagisa.

“Did I give you permission to speak?”

That face was a lot less intimidating when it only came up to your torso.

“I just asked you a question, you little shit!” Not exactly a comeback for the ages, but Haiji’s nerves were too shot to care. “Why the hell are you just now starting to care about when things don’t go according to plan?”

“Oh?” Monaca’s expression softened as she brought her finger up to her chin in feigned contemplation. She backed away from Nagisa and moved a little bit closer to him. “Monaca has no idea what you’re talking about.”

“The hell you don’t!” He shot back. “I agreed to come on this god-forsake airship and help you set this army up because we were going to fight Future Foundation! What the hell is all of this!?”

Monaca covered her hand with her mouth as she giggled at his roar of defiance.

“And that’s what we’re doing. Those demons are running with their tails between their legs, right?”

“And what about all the others the robots killed?”

“What _about_ them?” Nagisa spat out, finally having regained enough of his bearings to follow the conversation.

“I mean, what is all this paradise shit? I never agreed to a mass slaughter, or to all these abducted children, or-“

Monaca’s shrill laugh pierced his ear like a needle that was poised to go into his brain.

“Oh, now you care about what happens to missing children?”

Haiji charged forward with his fist at the ready. He brought it down as fast as he could with the intent of bashing her stupid fucking face in.

Instead, his fist met a hard, metallic surface and he shrieked in pain as he pulled his hand back and clutched it. Sweat dripped down Haiji’s brow as he glared at the damn vermin right in its red eye before him with a pained expression on his face. It just flashed him a toothy grin and watched Haiji rubbed his bruised knuckles.

“And that’s another fucking thing I don’t get!” He exclaimed as he pointed at the robot that blocked his blow. “What the hell is this pile of scrap metal!?”

“Shut yer grill, old geezer!” It exclaimed as it took some sort of novelty cigar out of its mouth. “I got a name, ya know! The name’s Kurokuma! K – U – J – wait there’s no J in there, lemme start over. K – E-“

“Just shut up.” Nagisa seethed.

“Right away, boss!” Kurokuma threw up a paw to salute the boy and then froze in place.

“As much as I loathe to admit it, the demon does bring up a good question.” Nagisa continued once the robot went still. “Where did Kurokuma come from?”

Haiji stormed out right as Monaca started explaining that she had no idea where that stupid thing came from. He bumped into the white-haired boy as he stomped down the hall, causing him to drop a platter of cups on the floor.

“Oh that’s a shame.” He sighed out with that same tired smile he always had. “Now how-“

“Just shut up.” Haiji snapped without turning around.

“Oh, sounds like you’re not getting along with your sister.” He remarked, his tone unwavering.

“The hell do you care?” He finally stopped to face the boy.

“Oh, I don’t want to get involved in family affairs.” The boy responded as he threw his hands up in front of him to give an illusion of nonchalance. “I just wanted to know what you plan on doing about the machinations of the warriors of hope. After all, the future looks pretty hopeless right now.”

Haiji’s anger turned to dread in an instant as he was forced to think about the imminent future. He had, until now, only been concerned about what he would do with himself after this little temper tantrum was dealt with. Until the white haired boy pointed it out, it never occurred it Haiji that Monaca might simply continue unhindered.

“I…”

“You’re a smart man, Haiji. You can figure out the real reason Monaca brought you here, right?” He tapped his head with his finger.

He didn’t respond. The floor had suddenly become incredibly interesting as sweat dripped down his brow and onto it. He knew damn well that the kid knew Monaca wanted the big bang Monokuma, though how the white haired kid knew all of this was completely fucking beyond him.

He stopped asking questions a long time ago.

“She wants you to use that secret weapon of yours to help her spread despair.”

He motioned for Haiji to follow him through one of the many doors lining the halls of the airship. Out of options and not that keen on preserving his own life at this point, Haiji followed. As soon as he stepped into the room, the boy thrust something into his arms that Haiji didn’t immediately recognize as a parachute.

“But if you got to it before she expected, she wouldn’t be able to control what you do with it. You could become the hero of this city! A bright, shining monument of hope for the people to rally around!”

The kid shuddered as he hugged himself and continued to ramble about hope or whatever the fuck, but Haiji didn’t listen to any of it. He was just grateful that he finally had a way to stop this madness without throwing himself under the bus as well. The kid finally stopped having his little episode and began addressing Haiji coherently once more.

"Though I would hurry if I were you. Right now, Mukuro's on track to take all of that glory away from you. We can't have her steal the Ultimate Hope away from us, can we?"

Haiji couldn't even begin to understand this kid's obsession with framing everything around hope and despair, but his instructions were easy enough to follow. If he was the one who stopped Monaca's massacre, then he'd be venerate as a hero. From there his crimes, ultimate despair related or otherwise, could be swept under the rug with relative ease.

If Mukuro tried to play the hero and get in the way of this plan, well...

She wasn't the one with access to a giant killer robot.

* * *

Komaru tread across the streets of Towa with deliberate slowness, clutching the megaphone she’d taken from the dead soldier as though her life depended on it ( _because it damn well does!_ ). If it weren’t for the fact that she was trying to keep up with Mukuro, she probably would have stopped moving all together.

Her other new travelling companion was fairing marginally better than her, most likely due to her repeatedly muttering some mantra about that Leon guy, whatever her relationship was with him.

“So, um… Kanon, that’s your name, right?”

“Yup! Kanon Nakajima’s my name.”

Komaru quickened her pace to match Kanon.

“And yours is Komaru, right?”

“Yeah.” She nodded. “Komaru Naegi.”

A moment of silence passed between them. Komaru would have asked if she really had been imprisoned just like herself, but the way neither of them could carry a conversation to save their lives quite thoroughly illustrated that this was the case.

Kanon’s expression grew serious and Komaru braced herself for whatever awkward attempts at conversation were about to follow.

“Just so we’re clear, when we find Leon…” She paused and scratched her chin as she searched for the right words. “You’re not gonna touch him, got it?”

“Huh?” She honestly didn’t know how to respond to this territorial display.

“Uh, yeah… sure.” It was probably best not to step on anyone’s toes right now. “Who’s this Leon to you, anyway?”

“He’s my cousin!” She responded enthusiastically.

Oh, _wow_ , she had to change the subject fast. That definitely wasn't something she wanted to think about for too long.

“So, Leon went to Hope’s Peak, right?” She asked, regretful that she still left an opportunity for her to ramble about him but hoping that this would help answer a particularly burning question.

“Yeah, why?”

“Well, I’ve got a theory about that, since Mukuro doesn’t seem to want to talk about it.” Mukuro had been more than willing to teach them about the state of affairs of the world at large, Future Foundation, Ultimate Despair, and any other important things like that. However, the few times Komaru had been able to talk to the soldier, she would clam up the moment she asked how and why any of the three of them fit into all of this.

“So we both got trapped in those apartments for a year, right?”

“Yeah…”

“And we’re both related to someone from Hope’s Peak, right?”

“Yeah… that’s really weird, isn’t it?!”

“Exactly!” Komaru pounded her fist into her open palm, ecstatic that she’d been able to make that connection. “Plus, Mukuro said there were other people trapped here just like us. That must mean they’re also all relatives of people from Hope’s Peak!”

“That’s gotta be right!” Kanon agreed. “So, what does it all mean?”

“I, um…” Komaru scratched her cheek. “I dunno. But it’s gotta mean something, right?”

“Quiet, both of you.” Mukuro interjected, her voice as cold as ice. “I heard something.”

The two of them hushed up for a moment, then returned to talking when she looked away. At least they were smart enough to start whispering.

“She totally just doesn’t like what we were talking about!” Kanon whispered.

If Mukuro could hear them, she made no comment on it. Komaru figured this was as good of a cue as any to continue.

“So I think this might mean there was someone important in Hope’s Peak that our families got involved with somehow.”

“Like who?” Kanon asked as she glanced around the streets. Mukuro probably just told them to shut up so that they wouldn’t get too close to whatever truth she was hiding, but it didn’t hurt to be careful.

“Well, were there any important or famous people in that class?” Komaru suggested. A moot question, given that anyone accepted into such a prestigious school was famous just by association, but it was possible that one of the brighter stars there may hold a clue about their situation.

“Well…” Komaru paused and tried to remember any details about that class. “I think Leon mentioned that he was in a class with Junko Enoshima.”

“That runway model?” Komaru asked. “What would she have to do with this?”

“Look, I dunno.” Kanon sighed out with dejection audible in her hushed voice. “I’m just listing people I know.”

Perhaps changing the subject again would help lift her spirits.

“So… did you ever watch Junko's makeup tutorials?"

"Of course!" Kanon responded, her voice raising instinctively as she expressed her admiration for the fashionista. "What do you think Junko’s up to nowadays, anyway?”

A gunshot pierced what little tranquility there was, and both of the girls froze in place out of terror.

A Monokuma composed of misshapen limbs and mechanical extremities designed to look like flesh that the girls hadn’t even noticed lay limp a few feet away from Mukuro, muttering something about punishment in a distorted metallic voice before exploding in a hail of shrapnel too small to actually hurt them.

“It was just one of them. Keep moving.”

That killed the conversation pretty quickly.

Mukuro tilted her head into her shoulder, once again trying to contact whoever it was she was working with.

“Juzo, come in.”

A burst of static screeched out of the radio, followed by a mess of words mangled by the static.

_“pair of-… nside – city? … -uck it, let them-“_

Mukuro adjusted a dial on the radio and spoke into it again.

“Sakura, come in.”

More nonsense and static.

_“affir-… two of-… -igh val-… a chain.. -scaped.”_

Mukuro turned another dial on the device and it shut off. She let out a groan of frustration and set her sights on a nearby entrance to the city’s subway networks.

“So, that’s bad, right?” Komaru asked, already knowing the answer.

“Very.” The soldier responded without looking away. “I can only hear a small part of what they’re saying, and they can’t hear anything we say. That can only mean something is blocking communications going out of the city.”

“But that shouldn’t be a problem for very long, right?” Komaru asked. “I mean, you’re just leading us out, aren’t you?”

“It’s not that simple.” She responded. “From what I heard, something is happening at the bridge. I can’t risk putting you two in any more danger than you’re already in. I need to reach somewhere that I can get in touch with the others and find out how to get you out of here safely.”

She began walking down the steps, then turned to face her companions.

“Let’s go. The streets are too dangerous.”

They nodded and followed wordlessly, figuring that Mukuro probably knew the best thing to do in this sort of situation. This certainty in her judgement faded as they continued to descend down the stairs and it got darker and darker. Eventually they reached a set of double doors that had clearly been torn from some prefab and bolted in the place of the entrance to the train station. Mukuro raised a fist in the air to signal the girls behind her to stop.

“Wait here.” She said, her voice still cold as usual, but with an undercurrent of something that Komaru couldn’t quite identify.

The doors to the subway opened completely on their own, revealing the pitch black environment inside. Her rifle at the ready, Mukuro advanced into the room with a level of cold determination that truly made her worthy of the title of ultimate soldier.

This careful advancement she made into the room was rendered completely pointless as a swarm of children wearing masks depicting Monokuma charged out and grabbed her along with her companions and pulled them into the room. They could have resisted one or two of the masked children, but this horde used the strength of their numbers to overwhelm them.

The door slammed behind them, and for a moment they were left in complete darkness.

Then a series of floodlights came on one by one, revealing their surroundings.

“Welcome, demons! Are you little cowards ready to face the leader of the warriors of hope!?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hnnnnnnnnng giant robot fight giant robot fight  
> anyways yeah this chapter name's kinda stretching the theme thin but fuck u im in charge


	16. The Ship of Nails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mukuro, Komaru and Kanon encounter the leader of the Warriors of Hope. Mahiru encounters a decision she can't make.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WE'RE BACK  
> Sorry this took so long ;-; wish I had a fancy excuse but its just that  
> A) I just bought a shit ton of warhammer figurines and i got distracted painting them, and  
> B) I was laying the groundwork for a new fic!! Go read it theres gonna be some naekusaba in there eventually i promise

“Just stay behind me and let me do the talking.”

Mukuro wanted to smile upon seeing how quickly Komaru and Kanon followed her instructions, but this definitely wasn’t the time for celebration. The soldier was normally willing to celebrate these sorts of menial victories on the battlefield, but this new one was far too unconventional for her liking.

It would have been more accurate to call this battlefield an arena, but Mukuro cared little for semantics at the moment. It was impressive that these Warriors of Hope could set this thing up on such short notice without anyone from Future Foundation noticing, especially considering this area was supposed to be a subway station.

The city’s captor’s preferred source of labor became obvious as Mukuro looked around her and into the stands of the arena. The hordes of children in identical masks and school uniforms unnerved her with their genuine enthusiasm for what they no doubt thought would soon be Mukuro’s demise. While Komaru and Kanon made no secret of their fear, Mukuro couldn’t help but notice the injuries all the children bore. Before her mind could delve too deep into the logistics of using child labor to build such a place, a child without a mask stepped to the front of the dais at the opposite end of the arena.

“You little idiots thought you could escape, didn’t you?” The child proclaimed as he crossed his arms and looked down on the trio with contempt. “Too bad I saw right through your plans, you stupid little demons!”

His words were followed by a round of applause and cheers from the children. He smiled and waved at them like an idol trying to placate their fans, but this only elevated the crowd’s frenzy.

“Wow, I looked so cool there…” The child muttered, more so to himself than his audience. “I looked totally cool there, right?”

“The hell’s with this brat?” Kanon asked, having presumably forgotten Mukuro’s instructions. The soldier held her fist out in front the girl and stepped forward to address the boy.

“I saw you on the broadcast. You’re one of the Warriors of Hope, right?”

“Wh-what!?” The boy stomped his feet and screeched in frustration, causing the children in the stands to begin jeering at Mukuro. “I’m not just one of them, I’m Masaru Daimon, the leader of the warriors of hope! Got it!? I’m not gonna let you treat me like some chump!”

Mukuro instinctively took a step back, as if it would calm him down.

“Alright, I apologize-“

“You ‘apologize’?!” Komaru interjected. Her angry whispering was far louder than she had probably intended. “Isn’t he threatening to kill us? Why-“

“Shut up, demon!” Masaru shouted, earning another round of cheering from the crowd around them. “See? The other one gets it! I’m the leader, so you have to be nice to me! Those are the rules.”

As Mukuro stepped forward, the child squinted and began to study Mukuro more intensely. The soldier knew exactly where this was going, but that didn’t stop her form hoping that he wasn’t about to realize just who she was.

“Wait a minute, it’s you!”

Komaru and Kanon stepped forward as if they wanted to listen more intently. It was a moot action considering that Masaru’s words echoed throughout the arena, but it was more about their intent than their actions.

“You’re the one who killed big sis Junko!”

The girls behind Mukuro whispered something to each other. The soldier couldn’t hear exactly what was being said due to the jeers and shocked gasps coming from the throngs of children, but she could hazard a guess. Their hushed theorizing was soon brought to a halt as they gazed on in awe at the increasing frenzy of the children in the stands. What started as booing and shrieking had turned into what could only be described as rioting. They threw themselves at the fences in front of the stands, with only a scant few of them still able to articulate their rage with words. The rest of them just screamed in pain and anger.

“Everyone, it’s alright!” Masaru shouted as he raised his in the air triumphantly, his intentions clear as day.

“I’m going to slay this demon right here and right now! I know I can do it, because I’m the hero! Heroes always win!”

Their frothing screams soon turned to cheering once more, though most of them remained pressed up against the chain link fence.

“So, you know who I am.” Mukuro sighed out, her hand nervously fiddling with the sidearm on her hip before finally drawing it. “That must mean you also know my talent.”

“Wh- Mukuro!?” Komaru gasped out. “You not trying to… kill him, are you?”

She would not let this child think he had even the slightest chance. As she watched the boy’s hands shake and tears well up in his eyes at the sight of her pistol, she felt a glimmer of hope that he might step down.

“No! No, no, no, no! I won’t be afraid ever again!”

The look in his eyes suddenly became far too familiar for Mukuro’s liking. Masaru steeled himself as best he could, his lips still trembling even as he looked down on the trio with the contempt he held for all other adults. The shaking in his hands stopped and he stomped his feet harder than before, causing a chamber to open beneath his dais.

Mukuro smelled the contents before she saw them, though she didn’t need to see it to know what she was being faced with.

“You see all of this!?” He screamed as he pointed at the pile of charred flesh below him. “These are all the demons from your band of invaders that I killed!”

Masaru began to dig his fingernails into his wrist. The cheering from the crowd began once more.

“These are all demons who tried to scare me with their guns, just like you!”

The cheering from the crowd began once more.

“That’s all you demons try to do! You just scare us kids into obeying you!”

His nails drew blood. He got on his knees and began pounding his arm into the floor in front of him.

“You see!? You can’t scare me anymore! No one can scare me! I won’t be afraid of you demons anymore!”

Blood began to splatter across the dais as the crowd grew louder and louder.

“I won’t be afraid of you! I won’t be afraid of your guns! I won’t be afraid of your belts! I won’t be afraid of your alcohol smell!”

He kept screaming about how brave he was, though his words soon became unintelligible through his pain and the crowd’s cheering. Komaru tried to step in front of the soldier as if anything she said could stop all of this, though Mukuro put her hand in front of the girl to stop her from trying anything. Masaru eventually stood up as the cheering reached its crescendo, his injured hand hanging limp and his face streaked with tears. Despite this, his grin was wider than ever before.

“You see this, you stupid filthy demons!?” The boy cried out as he proudly displayed his injured hand. “This is proof I’m not scared of pain anymore! Nothing you can do will scare me, ‘cause I’m the hero!”

Masaru held his good hand outstretched, and one of the children in the stands threw a controller covered in joysticks and buttons at him. He swung his arms around dramatically to pose with it despite the pain it clearly caused him to move his injured arm.

“And just like any good hero, I’m gonna kill the villians so we can all live happily ever after!”

“K-kill? You’re gonna kill us?” Komaru stuttered out. She clearly had enough of her wits about her to know what was coming next, though Mukuro could tell she was wishing this was all some sort of dream.

“Please, stop all of this!” Komaru shouted to no one in particular. “We don’t want to hurt you! Can’t you-“

Mukuro’s hand fell over her mouth.

“He can’t understand you.” She muttered as her gaze fell on the controller. “He can’t understand anything anymore.”

He pressed a large black and white button at the center of the controller and the earth beneath their feet began to tremble. All at once, the ground beneath the dais exploded in a hail of concrete and dirt, as some sort of robotic fighter emerged from it. The robot struck a dramatic pose next to its master and the crowd went wild once more, their voices finally beginning to grow hoarse.

“Now face the full might of-“

“We don’t have time for this.”

Mukuro’s words failed to make the arena fall into silence, though the discharge from her pistol certainly achieved that.

Komaru and Kanon both shrunk back upon hearing the gunshot. When they finally looked up to see what had happened, their eyes were filled with terror.

They had clearly expected to see a corpse.

Masaru had expected something similar, if the look on his face was any indication.

“We’ve defeated your robot, now let us out.”

Masaru was either unable or unwilling to respond. He was far too preoccupied with staring at his now destroyed controller. After what felt like an eternity of stunned silence, he threw the useless pile of scrap metal on the floor and began pounding random buttons on it. The robot remained motionless, its systems thrumming with power that would never be used.

“What!? No! You can’t do that, that’s cheating!” He shouted as he slammed the controller on the ground over and over again.

The gate behind the girls opened up, and the crowd turned their gaze from the arena to its former master. This time, not a single one of them made any noise.

“No! Close the gate! This isn’t over!”

The children clamored their way over each other to reach the top of the dais.

“Stop it! I’m the hero, I can’t lose like this! I-“

Whatever he intended to say next, they would never know. One of the masked children covered his mouth and dragged him down onto their side of the arena, though another one grabbed his legs and tried to pull him away from the first child. After that, the action became impossible to follow as more and more masked children piled on top of the boy, as if intending to claim his head.

Komaru both rushed forward, though they were quickly jerked back by Mukuro, who dragged them both away towards the gate. They kicked and screamed, begging the soldier to let them go back to save the boy, knowing full well that their pleas fell on deaf ears.

Mukuro exited the arena with her charges in tow, and the gate promptly closed behind them. The soldier sat down on the steps to rest, knowing that the two girls in her care needed it more than she did. The two of them eventually got up, though Kanon seemed for more energetic than Komaru.

“What the hell was that about!?” She asked as she made her way up to Mukuro. “Why did you just leave that kid to die!?”

Mukuro didn’t respond. Her gaze was fixed directly in front of her.

“Yeah…” Komaru whimpered out as she got onto her feet. “Why did he have to die?”

After taking a drink from her canteen, Mukuro finally opted to talk to them.

“Neither of you have ever seen someone confess to a murder before, have you?”

They looked at each other in confusion, then turned back to her. Mukuro just let out another sigh.

“You wouldn’t get it. There was no saving him.”

“What do you mean?” Komaru muttered out. “Couldn’t you have just dived in and-“

“That’s not what I meant.” Mukuro shot back, causing her companion to go quiet. She got up and motioned for the pair to follow her.

“I hope you never have to understand this,”

Mukuro turned back to face them, doing her best to ignore their confusion and indignation.

“But some people cross lines that they can never come back from. Not everyone can be redeemed.”

Mukuro kept walking up the stairs, not turning back to see them follow her, though knowing that they would. She continued to let them whisper to each other, knowing that she couldn’t lie to them about her past forever.

However, if she could put that conversation off for just a little while longer, she’d do so gladly.

* * *

Mahiru was undeniably curious as to what it was this ship was named before her majesty graced _Naglfar_ with its new name, though she supposed it didn’t matter. Sonia’s wisdom was unmatched, and if she believed that the ship needed a new name after having been hijacked from the navy of whatever country this ship had come from, then Mahiru would not dream of questioning it. Her majesty insisted there was some sort of irony to the name, given Mukuro’s past with the mercenaries, but Mahiru didn’t really understand.

She was the only one on this ship allowed into what was once the captain’s quarters of the ship, though she and a band of impressed sailors made sure to remodel it to the tastes of their queen. The poor man’s personal belongings had been thrown overboard and replaced with a garish thrown covered in bright red and purple fabrics, while the rest of the room had been painted in the traditional monochrome pallet that had become the signature of the Nevermind family.

When the captain grumbled some complaint to himself about this, Sonia responded by having him nailed to the prow of the ship. His face being torn apart by the winds made for some candid shots without compare.

For a moment, the disgraced photographer imagined if those on the other ships in the fleet harbored any sort of resentment towards her for being allowed so much of her majesty’s trust. Where all the military leaders of Novoselic were relegated to command positions on other ships of queen Nevermind’s stolen fleet, Mahiru had always been granted the privilege of being at her queen’s side.

Right now, however, was not one of those moments.

Sonia shifted in her makeshift throne in a fruitless attempt to find a position that would prevent the rocking of the ship from disturbing her comfort. Despite the quality of the throne itself, nothing seemed to satisfy her.

Her every move caused Mahiru to flinch.

“What exactly is the cause of this incessant rocking?” The queen asked as she turned to her lover.

“I-I’m pretty sure the captain said something about bad weather yesterday, your majesty.” Mahiru replied, daring not to make eye contact with Sonia while she was upset.

“Do pay more attention when people tell you such things.” Sonia commanded as she appeared to have finally found a comfortable position. “I chose to rely on you to talk to most of these menials in my place. Do not make me regret misplacing my trust.”

“Of course!” Mahiru responded enthusiastically. “I hope you will find it in you to forgive me, your majesty.”

The two of them exchanged no words for a while. Mahiru just remained motionless, unwilling to get up from her position bowing before the queen lest she invoke her ire. Sonia, on the other hand, was too preoccupied with deciding whether it would be worth it to have one of the menials pour her a glass of wine.

She did eventually speak up, causing Mahiru to wince as though struck.

“You don’t seem that excited about returning to Japan.”

“I’m gonna be honest, your majesty…” The photographer paused as she tried to find the right words. “I really don’t like the idea of having to work with Fuyuhiko again.”

“I had assumed as much for some time now.” Sonia huffed out as she rested her chin on her hand. “I appreciate that you’ve decided to be honest with your concerns, though.”

“Oh, thank you, your majesty!” Mahiru was unable to hide the relief in her response.

“You’re going to have to sort out those feelings out eventually, you know.” Sonia added, as if she wouldn’t allow Mahiru to feel comfortable for too long. “We’ll reach the shores of Japan in just under a week.”

Mahiru said nothing in response, for she had nothing she could say. She knew that Sonia was right, and that Sato’s death was just something she would have to get over. Yet her heart ached with… something at the thought of just letting it go and allowing him to walk free. It wasn’t despair; it simply couldn’t be. She was far too familiar with the feeling and far too willing to embrace it for her to describe it as a bad thing. This feeling that caused her heart to sink and her fists to tremble whenever she thought of the ultimate yakuza and his little lapdog couldn’t be the same thing that drove her through this past year of her life.

Mahiru pulled herself out of these useless idle thoughts as her majesty rose from her throne and made her way towards the photographer. The queen extended her hand to Mahiru, who took it without hesitation. Such was her duty, after all.

“Surely you must at least be excited about Mukuro’s impending doom, if nothing else.”

“Well, I definitely am, your majesty.” Mahiru responded. “I know you must be as well! Surely no one could deny your rule after you kill someone like her, your majesty!”

“Indeed.” Sonia agreed. “Though, in truth, she is not the only one I’m looking forward to mounting above my throne.”

“Is that true, your majesty? Who else do you want dead?”

“Did I ever tell you that I was acquainted with Byakuya Togami long before either of us were accepted into Hope’s Peak?”

“I don’t believe you ever did, your majesty.” Sonia was obviously going somewhere with this, and Mahiru was more than eager for some of her infinite wisdom in this difficult situation.

“Indeed, we were.” She responded with a nod. “Our parents encouraged us to become familiar with each other from a young age. I suppose it is obvious in hindsight, given that we were both being groomed to become important figures in global politics.”

Sonia giggled at her own thoughts before vocalizing them.

“Though, I don’t think either of our parents could have ever predicted things turning out like this.”

They both laughed, though Mahiru wasn’t entirely sure how this was supposed to be funny, though that was irrelevant, and she knew it.

“In all seriousness though, I never understood why my parents forced me to socialize with him when I was a young girl.” Sonia continued once the laughter died down. “I understand the importance of those sessions now, of course, but at the time, I hated every second of them. I would always scream and cry after he finally left, and I would beg my parents to make him go away forever.”

“Y-You would?” Mahiru asked. “Why was that, your majesty?”

“I’m sure you’re aware of his reputation?” She asked as a humorless chuckle escaped her lips. “More specifically, of how sociable he was.”

“Yeah, I heard about that…” Mahiru scratched her cheek as she searched for the right words. “He certainly was…”

“A stuck up little bitch, yes.” Sonia finished the photographer’s thought for her. “And he was even worse as a child. Do you know what he always called me?”

“What did he call you?” Mahiru asked.

Sonia stared her down, and Mahiru corrected her mistake as quick as she could.

“What did he call you, your majesty?”

She had almost gotten comfortable around Sonia.

“Much better.” The queen proclaimed as she planted a kiss on Mahiru’s cheek.

“Anyways,” The continuation of her story was unnervingly seamless. “He always called me weak, soft, anything to that affect. He claimed I would never be a good ruler as I was too concerned with my subject’s wellbeing.”

Sonia burst into laughter as she recalled those days long since past, when she was someone else entirely.

“Can you imagine that? Me; too sympathetic, too weak to be queen?”

Mahiru joined her lord and love in laughing at the very notion of such alien words being accurate descriptors for the blood-soaked queen of Novoselic.

“Tell me, do you think he would still call me weak?” Sonia pondered as she scratched her chin in mocking contemplation.

“I don’t think he would, your majesty.” Mahiru responded with a reserved giggle.

“Indeed. Though, speaking of weakness,” Sonia changed the subject as she returned to her seat on the makeshift throne. “When was the last time you saw Gundham?”

“Um, the last time I saw him was when we were getting aboard this ship, your majesty.” She admitted, unaware that she was meant to keep tabs on that damn recluse in addition to all the others Sonia was none too keen on speaking with.

That same feeling she felt whenever she thought about Fuyuhiko was flaring in her heart again, though she had no idea what it could mean.

“I believe he’s somewhere on the lower decks since that’s where most of the animals were brought, your majesty.”

Mahiru refused to dwell in her own thoughts for too long, lest they lead her to unsavory conclusions.

“I should have expected as much…” Sonia responded, clearly in the middle of some unsavory thoughts of her own. “I need you to pay him a visit. He has been far too reclusive for my liking as of late.”

“Of course, your majesty. What would you like me to do once I find him?”

“I just want you to observe what he’s doing and report back to me. A simple enough task, yes?”

A simple task, indeed, though clearly laden with some sort of ulterior motive from her highness. Mahiru certainly wasn’t blind enough to blame her for this. The animal breeder had always been a recluse, but since that attack on Moscow his anti-social tendencies had grown worse and worse. Something was clearly wrong with him, and this was doubtlessly her majesty’s way of expressing her concern for him.

“Of course, your majesty. Your will be done.” Mahiru replied as she reluctantly let go of her lord’s arm.

“That’s all I ask.” Sonia said as she made her way back to the makeshift throne, not caring enough to turn and watch Mahiru leave the room.

Mahiru closed the bulkhead (with no small amount of effort) to the newly christened throne room and let out a sigh of relief once she was sure that the door was closed. Queen Nevermind was a wonderful, splendid being, unparalleled in her majesty and grace. Truly Mahiru was fortunate beyond belief to have someone like her in her life.

But she was also _really_ scary.

Under normal circumstances, Mahiru would have opted to walk the long, cramped halls of the _Naglfar_ when looking for something at her majesty’s request. The disgraced photographer would take any chance she could get to stretch her legs when in this oversized gunboat. However, she was pretty sure she already knew where Gundham was. The ship had a pretty bad rat problem which started once Novoselic’s forces had taken it, according to the slaves that had once been in control of this ship. They also claimed that there were more and more of the vermin the farther one went down the decks of the ship.

If she searched the lower levels long enough, she’d find him eventually. That logic led her into the nearest stairwell, where she confirmed the claims about the rats on the ship. What was at first the noise of scampering and occasional sight of a tail rapidly became a sea of fur and filth lapping at her feet. Mahiru did her best not to imagine the sources of the many foul odors on these floors as she made her way from room to room, never sparing each one more than a glance.

She did eventually find Gundham, and she could help but be unsurprised by the state he was in. He looked like he hadn’t bathed since they left the shores of Korea. She couldn’t smell the man, but she could hazard a guess at what state his hygiene was in given his surroundings. He was sitting on the floor of a completely barren room, save for a massive crest of the nevermind family lying on the floor, draped over it like some sort of carpet. There were four fearsome looking hounds on either side of him. The creatures were held in place by leashes that ended at hooks that stuck out of the wall. The hounds were motionless at first, though when Gundham noticed her presence, they raised their heads in kind.

“So… um…”

No response.

As Gundham stared her down, it occurred to her that she had no idea what she was actually supposed to say to him.

“Her majesty sent me down here to check on you.”

No response.

He got up, standing at his full height. Gundham’s hand drifted to the hatchet holstered on his waist, though his face bore the same scowl as always.

“So… what brought on this whole ‘vow of silence’ thing? You’ve been doing it since we left Hope’s Peak.”

No response.

He drew the hatchet, causing Mahiru to flinch back, though he didn’t do anything with it. The rats in the room began to retreat to the door that Mahiru walked in from.

“Okay, I guess you’re just always gonna be weird…” She sighed out. “But you’ve been acting _really_ weird lately!”

No response.

He twirled the hatchet around in his hand with a surprising amount of skill. Perhaps he’d been practicing the technique during his time isolated down here. The vermin had completely vacated Gundham's side of the room.

“Seriously, ever since we learned that Mukuro… you know…”

Gundham drove the hatchet into the wall, severing one of the hound’s leashes. To Mahiru’s surprise, the beast did nothing with this newfound freedom.

“Yeah… that…” Mahiru stammered out after she realized the hound was no threat to her.

He walked back and forth along the wall, severing each leash as he went. Each time the noise of the metal hatchet slamming against the metal walls of the ship rang through the room, Mahiru couldn’t help but flinch back. The hounds themselves, however, gave no reaction whatsoever to the events unfolding around them. They continued to rest on the floor as though the leashes were never there in the first place.

“Oh, okay…” Mahiru couldn’t quite understand what was happening, but she could certainly tell it wasn’t anything good. “I, umm, I’m gonna go back to Sonia now, I… guess?”

Gundham raised his arm to throw the hatchet and Mahiru covered her face with her arms instinctively, knowing it would do no good. She uncovered her face when she heard a high-pitched squeal noise at her feet, where the hatchet lay embedded in the corpse of a rat on floor. The creature had been directly on top of the crest of the Nevermind family, which was now covered in its blood.

Gundham walked towards the corpse and Mahiru stepped back with every step the animal breeder took. He pulled out the hatchet and kicked the dead rat aside, all the while maintaining direct eye contact with the photographer.

Then he brought his hatchet down, square in the center of the crest.

Mahiru sprinted out of the room without another word, not caring in the slightest about the rats crushed beneath her feet.

She was filled with uncertainty, not because she didn’t understand what just happened, but because she knew exactly what it was that Gundham was trying to tell her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay I actually picked a chapter name that was relevant to norse mythology AND the content of the chapter!! trust me that theme is a lot harder to keep up with than it seems

**Author's Note:**

> If I ever take too long to update go bully me on twitter @Butternubs3


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